Noir de la Lune
by Starherd
Summary: AU: what if Cloud died, instead of giving Sephiroth the Black Materia? Postapocalyptic & Violent, a journey that changes the travelers. Pairings- some, few healthy, Tifa x Loz focus. Game, AC canon. A sigh escapes from heaven and worlds end...
1. One is the Loneliest Number

**Author's note:** Disclaimer found below.

Before anyone says anything, no, I very much do _not_ hate Cloud; he's only dead for plot reasons. There's a lot of death and destruction and a lack of happy endings here.

Chapter title is a lyric from the song "One".

I'm not familiar with the original artist, but there's a great cover of this song done by Filter on the X-Files movie album.

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**(01: One is the Loneliest Number)**

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The air here smelled strange.

Tifa kept her head low, peering through bangs that had grown long to hide her face. Her gauntlet-covered right hand gripped her left arm, fingers digging in nervously. She didn't want to be here.

Vincent hovered in the open airlock for a moment, then pushed off from the wall, sending himself a little ways into the hallway beyond. He caught hold of the railing with his metal-clad hand and turned back to look at her, extending his other hand toward her.

He was always there to prompt her and keep her in the present, she reflected. Nearly never left her side, now, as though he were her keeper. Perhaps he felt as responsible as she for what had happened - though she was certain that it wasn't right for him to feel that way. It had been she who had acted, she who had changed everything... It had been she who had pulled the trigger.

She pushed herself forward, out of the rocket pod, and into the orbital city. Her gloved hand took his; their gloves were ragged, fingers of them worn through, some missing.

"He won't be pleased," Vincent murmured. On the opposite side of the hall, a ragged man and two women floated down toward the pod to unload the supplies within.

"Does it matter?" She whispered back, her throat still tight despite how long she'd lived this way.

The hallway branched at the end of the jetty; there were more people here. People in rags who busied their selves making this place habitable. People who could still smile and speak freely, without gravity to weigh them down. Children who could still play safely, without fear of attack.

There was no pressing crowd, but the number of people in the hallway still made Tifa uncomfortable.

A giggling child came careening around a corner, literally bouncing off the walls, limbs outstretched to direct himself with each surface he contacted. His mother could be heard calling after him from the side hall. "Mal! Mal, you get back here right now!"

The collision was unavoidable. Tifa released Vincent's hand as the child thudded into her, his momentum pushing her backward until she bumped against the wall. She steadied herself against the railing with her left hand, instinctively hiding the boy against her chest, her massive gauntlet protectively covering him.

He squirmed, laughing, and twisted until he could look up into her face, golden curls waving gently. His expression changed a little - he reached up to touch the bright scar that trailed down from the corner of her left eye. "Ow," he exclaimed, frowning. "Hurt!"

She couldn't bring herself to smile, not even for this. "A bit," she responded quietly.

"Mal! What have I told you -" the boy's mother came around the corner, and caught hold of the archway to stop herself. Her expression darkened. "_Get away from my son_."

Tifa jerked her arm away, freeing the toddler to push off of her. He floated happily back toward his mother, who caught his wrist and pulled him behind her.

"It's been a long time, Shera," Vincent stated with a diplomatic nod.

Shera sighed, bowing her head, her knuckles that gripped the archway going white. "I knew one of the rockets would bring you, someday," she sighed. "Come on. I'll take you to Cid."

They followed her in silence, Vincent bringing up the rear and pushing Tifa ahead of him. Mal clung to his mother, but kept looking back at Tifa and smiling. "I know how much you like it when the rockets come, Mal," she could hear Shera whispering to him. "But you have to stay away, do you understand?"

Tifa looked away.

Shera led them through the myriad corridors until they reached the extended shaft that led to the command center. "Cid," she called, drifting toward the domed room with Mal clinging to her long coat. There was a sharp note to her voice. "You have guests."

"What, it wasn't just another refugee rocket? What does Rufus want now..."

His gruff voice cut off abruptly as his grizzled face appeared in the opening at the end of the shaft. "Shit," he muttered.

Shera hung back, arms encircling her child as she let Tifa and Vincent pass her. "Should I start the evacuation?" She asked quietly.

"Don't overreact," Vincent murmured, eyes locked on Cid.

Cid stared back, then looked at Tifa again, and his shoulders sagged. "Not yet," he sighed to Shera, casting a half-hearted glare at Tifa. "Just had to get some more blood on your hands, huh? Why did Rufus let you come up here?"

"_She_ has no idea that I'm here," came Tifa's dull response. "We'll be gone before she catches on. Shinra's running interference, in exchange for our delivering a message."

Cid's eyes narrowed. "Which is?"

Tifa looked back at Vincent as they reached the portal into the command center. Cid pushed away, busying himself at one of the consoles.

Vincent drifted closer to him, his voice low. "He told us to tell you that the time of the new moon is at hand."

Cid's hands stilled. "He didn't have to send _you_ here to tell me that," he growled. "Why didn't he send Reno? The second _She_ finds out that you're here, the life of every person on this station is forfeit."

"Our coming was an accident; it was the quickest way to get us out of Her range for a while," Vincent answered, choosing his words carefully. "Reno is... recovering from an incident."

Cid's mouth twisted into a rueful smile. "Mouthed off to the Princes again, didn't he. Idiot." He sighed. "When you get back down, tell Rufus that I know perfectly well what phase the moon is in, dammit. If you get the chance."

He pushed away from the console, kicking with one foot to flip over and catch the railing at the edge of the portal and angling himself to go back down the shaft. "I'll take you to the garden, as long as you're here. Marlene'll be there."

Tifa's head snapped up. "Marlene is here?"

Cid looked back in surprise. "You didn't know?"

"Barret only ever said that she was safe," Vincent explained. "We didn't know about this place until we were already in the rocket."

The engineer snorted, turning away and propelling himself down the shaft. "Good."

Vincent moved to follow him, his metal hand clacking as he gripped the railing, hair and torn cape floating free for lack of gravity. He looked back, waiting for Tifa.

She'd made no move to follow. She was staring out of the ceiling dome, at the quarter of the planet visible above them.

Much of it was cloaked in clouds, fading into darkness, but the sun shone from behind the space station, giving dawn to the part of the planet that needed it the least. Surrounded by blue-grey ocean that looked stone still from here was a black gash in the planet's surface.

Wutai, burned and gone forever, mountains crumbled and forests razed. It had taken more than a year for the cloud of ash from that disaster to allow the sun through to the surface of the planet again.

Vincent pushed back, reaching out to take her hand again. "It's not your fault."

She closed her eyes. "Yes it is."

Cid glanced over his shoulder, only his eyes betraying sadness.

The garden was another glass-domed room, this one massive. It was thriving - looked like a jungle, even though it had only existed for four years. Without gravity, the plants grew unchecked, springing from floor and walls, crawling over the glass dome, and trying to fill all the space in between. It provided supplemental air exchange for the entire orbital city, as well as fresh fruit and vegetables.

This was why the air here smelled strange to her, Tifa reflected. It smelled _alive_. It didn't have the perpetual scent of ash that the planet's atmosphere now carried.

"Tifa!"

They'd barely entered the room before a girl was flying toward them, pulling herself along tree branches and vines, her face open and grinning excitedly. She was barely nine years old, brown hair held back in an oversized pink bow that stood out vibrantly against the greens and browns of the garden and her clothing. A glass vial around her neck glimmered brightly - she carried Mako with her.

Her aim was good, honed through several years' experience of living without gravity. She slammed into Tifa, laying her head against her chest and embracing her fiercely, casually reaching past her with one hand to reduce Tifa's resultant impact against the wall behind them. "Tifa, you came! Big Sister said you'd come."

Tifa went still, drifting after bumping against the wall, her lips drawing into a thin line. Uncomfortable, she reached up slowly to pat Marlene on the back - perhaps a response would encourage her to let go. "It's... good to see you, Marlene," she attempted, her voice sounding strained. "You got bigger."

"Yeah, kids do that," Cid grunted, rolling his eyes.

"How is Dad doing? All he ever tells people to tell me is that he's still kicking," Marlene asked, pouting a bit as she let go.

"He's all right," Vincent answered, eyes ranging over the vast assortment of plants as though he expected something to leap out and attack them - as something almost surely would have, planetside. "He's with Yuffie and Nanaki."

"And Cait - I mean Reeve?"

"No change," Tifa sighed. Three years before, Reeve had been attacked while using his Cait Sith puppet to protect Marlene; his neural connection had been infiltrated. He'd been in a coma ever since. After that, Barret had concentrated on keeping Marlene out of harm's way, until she had seemed to disappear entirely. Her being here explained that, at least.

"Oh," Marlene responded, the glow of joy fading a little from her face. "I'd hoped... Big Sister said that he'd get better."

Tifa bit her lip. Marlene behaved as though Aeris actually spoke to her; it had been the single flaw in her sanity ever since Aeris had been killed. It didn't mean that her enthusiastic nature was unwelcome - only that being with Marlene opened that wound again.

Aloud, Tifa softly replied, "It hasn't happened yet."

Marlene gave a solemn nod, slipping back to hold only Tifa's hand before brightening again. "Do you like the garden? I'm so happy that you could come see it! All the plants are doing really well!"

"I can see that..."

"Cid!"

The engineer turned; he'd been hovering silently next to Vincent. Six years ago, they'd been forming a friendship. _One more thing that I've ruined, _thought Tifa.

The cry had come from the hallway. "What?" Cid called, looking through the archway.

"We've got another unscheduled pod on the way!" The teenage boy in the hall stopped himself at the entrance to the garden, auburn hair waving about his face. He was breathless, his face grim, becoming moreso - nearly angry - when he saw Tifa and Vincent.

Cid stiffened, drawing himself up, eyes narrowing. The rockets that Shinra launched from their new base were, overall, carefully scheduled; there was total radio silence between the planet and the orbital city, in an attempt to keep the city a secret. The only signals a rocket sent to the station were generated automatically once it came quite close, for docking, and to send the output of an automatic sensor to tell how many occupied the pod.

Marlene frowned at the boy's expression. "Denzel, it's all right -"

Cid cut her off. "How many heartbeats?"

Denzel's face was pale under that expression, Tifa realized. Her gut twisted as though she'd been stabbed. She knew what his answer would be.

There were always one, two, or four or more occupants to a pod. Always. It was the earliest and surest way of warning that they had.

Denzel answered, "Three."

There was a long moment of silence. "Fuck," Cid muttered, his own face going pale.

And then the moment passed, and he was in command again. "Start the evacuation."

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**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square-Enix, and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	2. Burning in the Heat of the Atmosphere

**Author's note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is a lyric from the song "Satellite" by the Crüxshadows.

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**(02: My Back Is Burning in the Heat of the Atmosphere)**

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The rocket pod was built to house eight, but there were only three within. It had no windows, only small two-tone green screens, which displayed information that the occupants didn't care about. There was no need; the pods were programmed to fly blind between launch pad and space station.

Still, it was hard to ignore the alarm that sounded as another object of similar size passed by in the opposite direction. The computer tried to warn of the possible collision, even as it corrected course in an attempt to avoid it.

"Another escape pod."

"They know we're coming."

"They're right to flee."

"She'll still be there, won't she?"

"Of course. She'll have to see everyone else out before she'll go."

"She's like that."

The pod filled with laughter - cold, unkind, sly laughter. The kind of laughter that most people tended to back away from.

Most of the time, it didn't matter to them which one of them was speaking. They functioned as one entity, mind, body, and black soul.

Most of the time.

A few loud clunks resounded within the metal walls of the small pod. The light over the hatch flickered green.

"We're here," the coldest voice whispered.

Yazoo was naturally the swiftest of them; he had the airlock cycling open even before Loz and Kadaj had finished unbuckling their seats' harnesses. But he moved aside and allowed Kadaj through first.

"No one here," Loz muttered in disappointment, last out of the pod. The jetty was empty, the only sound an annoying synthesized alarm, a red strobe light flashing at the end of the hall. A few discarded boxes bobbed along the wall, released too quickly to have been lashed down.

"We'll find them," Kadaj assured him. "They can't all have left yet."

"Can't hide," Yazoo echoed, drifting to the railing. "The place isn't big enough."

For a moment, they were still, listening - sensing. "There," Kadaj murmured, the Scan Materia in his crown-like headband gleaming slightly. He inclined his head to the left.

The three of them pushed off simultaneously - flying for lack of gravity, capes fluttering behind them - each angling in the indicated direction into the hallway at the end of the jetty. Three pairs of slitted, Mako-green eyes narrowed in anticipation. Kadaj smiled; his brothers, slightly behind him, glanced at each other with lips twisted likewise.

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Cid ran along the wall of the corridor to his quarters, one hand overhead to stabilize himself against the railing. The door to the rooms was locked open. "Shera! Move!" He shouted before he even reached the portal.

"On our way!" She shot out the door, Mal perched on her hip with her arm around him, a bag as big as he was on her other arm. The dark-haired woman careened into the wall; even after four years, she wasn't as adept at maneuvering without gravity as the children. "Are they in yet? Is it really them?"

Cid clenched his teeth; it pained him to see Shera so pale and tense. She tried to be strong, but he couldn't help but feel that if she hadn't married him, she'd have far less reason to have to try so hard.

"They're in. It's them." He looked at Mal; the boy seemed to know that something was wrong. He was quiet, his eyes wide as he clung to his mother. "We're watching. They'll come close, but I think that we can get everyone out safely. Especially if we delay them."

"You're talking like a fighter again," Shera whispered.

Cid didn't answer. He pushed away, into their quarters. There was one thing he had to retrieve before the place could be abandoned.

"Get going," he ordered her, his voice stern. "I'll be along."

She frowned, eyes growing large and more worried as he returned with pike in hand. "You can't -"

"No choice," he cut her off. "There's three of them. Tifa and Vincent won't have much chance without help."

"You promised," she whispered.

He didn't answer her, couldn't even meet her eyes. He looked to Mal instead, ruffling the child's hair with his free hand. "Take care of your mom, little guy."

"Da," Mal said quietly, his expression very serious.

And then Cid was off, heading further down the hall. Shera hesitated only a moment before moving away in the opposite direction.

He really wished that he could find a cigarette just then, but there were some habits that just weren't compatible with living on a space station.

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Tifa held the railing with her shielded hand, the armor clacking as it bumped against the wall, and stared at what consensus held was the floor. With her left hand, she held her PHS to her ear, willing her call to go through. She wasn't even sure that the signal would reach the planet...

It suddenly stopped ringing. "What?" A petulant voice demanded.

She kept it short, speaking loudly over the din. "Yuffie! Warn Shinra to expect a lot of escape pods."

"Escape pods? What are you talking about? Where are you? The Princes headed into the complex not long after you did; Shinra must have a mole -"

"Just relay the message," Tifa begged. "I'll tell you everything later. When we get back."

"Sure you will," Yuffie muttered. But she did add, "I'll tell him," before the signal cut off.

"Thanks," Tifa whispered to the deactivated phone. It seemed like Yuffie had less patience with everyone by the day. Or at least, less patience with her in particular...

"We can draw them here," Vincent muttered, moving into place next to her. They were off to the side of the hall they'd come through to get to the garden, droves of refugees rushing by. The main bank of escape pods was at the far end of the garden. "Once everyone's out, they'll know where we'll be anyway. There are a lot of corridors to funnel them through to get them here, and that means a lot of places to slow them down -"

"We need to separate them if anyone's going to have a chance," Tifa said, snapping her PHS shut and putting it away. "If we can meet them at that junction up there, lead them in separate directions..."

Vincent turned to her, brow furrowed. "You're not going to take him on alone again, are you? After last time -"

Her face was hard; she stared off down the hall, refusing to make eye contact with her friend. "Last time was two years ago. I owe him." She flexed her right hand in its gauntlet, her brown eyes finally meeting Vincent's red. "Besides, this Pearl Armor's got to be good for something, right?" She paused. "Think you can handle the other two?"

Vincent looked away this time. "For a while. Depends on what they bring out in me." His lips drew thin, but the expression couldn't be mistaken for a smile.

"It was good while it lasted, wasn't it? At least you got to see the garden..."

Tifa and Vincent whirled; Marlene was behind them, rubbing her eyes. She was obviously trying not to cry - tears were just difficult to deal with in zero G. Behind her, at the archway into the garden, the boy named Denzel waved people through, though he was watching Marlene.

"I'm sorry, Marlene," Tifa murmured. "They came here after us..." Six years ago, she wouldn't have hesitated to embrace the girl, to offer what comfort she could. Now, her arm only twitched as she resisted the urge to reach out. Being close to people wasn't a good idea for her any more.

"Don't," Marlene snapped, suddenly raising her head. Her lips trembled in a determined pout. "Don't you dare try to take the blame for this too -"

There was a scream far up the hall, three junctions ahead. The people rushing by tried to go faster, voices rising in a panicked chorus.

"Go!" Vincent shouted to Marlene, barely looking back as he began to pull himself along the railing as fast as possible, fighting the frightened crowd to get to the source of the disturbance.

Tifa was right behind him. One face stood out from the throng - Shera briefly made eye contact with her as she passed in the opposite direction. And then she was gone, along with everyone else, sweeping Marlene away with her and Mal through the garden, toward escape.

The sound of sealing and launching escape pods became even more constant. Tifa kicked upward, releasing the rail and pulling herself along flat against the ceiling, fingers digging into the ceiling panels. Ahead of her, Vincent had already done the same.

Tifa tried not to look at the refugees' wild eyes and stricken expressions, tried to ignore their desperate sobs and screams. It only made her remember the beach at Wutai five years ago, crowded with people in the smoky darkness, the night sky obscured by clouds of ash illuminated by fire below. She didn't remember the individual faces so much as their expressions, mouths open, eyes only dark tearful slits, brows furrowed, everyone darkened with ash. She remembered that last hour on the beach, nothing but heat and cinders falling to burn skin and hair and people trampled underfoot and the scent of things burning that shouldn't be... The sea could not save them and the Highwind could not take flight with so many people and the boats were burning and then _He_ was there on the hill overlooking them all and laughing and Summoning -

- And a year after that _He'd_ been broken and crying and finally died and look where _that_ had gotten them -

That scent. Tifa realized that she could smell it again. The scent of clothing and hair and flesh, all crisped by electrocution and fire. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she shivered.

They reached the third junction, and looked down the side hall there. No one else was coming this way - those who could flee, had. The corridor was long and straight, and further down, the lights had gone out. Only the dim red glow of the alarm light showed anything in that area, and by its flashing, a body could be seen drifting limp near another junction. The flesh was not burned, but there was no point in checking to see if the poor man was still alive; his head bobbed separately next to him.

As they approached, a voice carried from the crossing hall, accompanied by a terrible, wet sound.

"No summons, no spells, no bullets - Kadaj is so strict," the voice crooned, almost singing. "But it's still fun, isn't it, Brother?"

"Hn." The second voice was deeper and rougher than the first. "They're so fragile."

Tifa peered around the corner. _They_ were there, in the hallway that led to the control center. The passage was clouded with drops of blood hanging aimlessly in the air with no gravity to tell them to fall. The long-haired Prince, Yazoo, was upside down with his back to them, pulling his gunblade from inside the rib cage of a second corpse. Further blood and bits of flesh drifted away from the wound. His elder brother, Loz, was idly picking at the crisped black flesh of another body. He'd smashed someone into the wall, where they had broken several wires, and between that and the charge in his gauntlet been electrocuted. At least the man probably hadn't lived past the blow itself.

Together, they were very nearly a completed yin and yang - Loz's brute strength almost perfectly complimented Yazoo's swift grace. Even without their younger brother, they were nearly unstoppable.

That tiny _almost_ was their only weakness.

Vincent, also peering around the corner, slipped back and held up two fingers to her, scowling. Tifa shrugged at him, shaking her head. She'd no idea of where Kadaj might be. She glanced around the corner again to be sure -

Oh, hell. Cid was coming from the far end of the corridor. The Princes hadn't seen him yet. He drew a breath to snarl -

There was no longer any time to think. Tifa gave a wild shout and shoved herself into the intersection, grabbing hold of the headless body and catching herself on the wall by one foot so as to fling it at Yazoo, who was the closer of the two.

Vincent looked at her like she'd gone insane - more insane - before he saw Cid. Then he moved forward as well. He reached for his gun, then thought better of it - weapons fire and the delicate nature of the space station would definitely not mix well.

"Was just wondering where you were!" Yazoo shouted back, easily swatting the body aside. Loz kicked forward, just as delighted. They still failed to see Cid, who - looking slightly ill at the carnage - reached the vertical shaft to the command center. He looked up, scowled, and propelled himself upward with his pike ready.

Vincent stilled himself, his cloak swirling around him like smoke, sharp edges concealed within. "Can you catch me, Yazoo?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous and inviting as he tensed.

"Wrong question," Yazoo responded, stabbing his gunblade into the wall to stop himself a few feet away, successfully distracted from Tifa. "Ask, what will I do when I catch you?"

And Vincent was off, Yazoo quick to follow, the metal wall screeching as he pulled the blade free. Tifa was not distracted; she crouched against the ceiling, coiled and ready, and made no move as he passed beneath her.

Loz waited, braced on the wall at a right angle to her, tilting his head to see her face right-side up. He cracked his knuckles, then adjusted the pronged gauntlet on his left arm. "Missed you," he growled at her.

Tifa suppressed the urge to shudder. Two years ago, when they'd caught her, she'd been brought before _Her_ - Jenova, who called herself Queen now that she had her own corporeal form. She had demanded that Tifa tell her the location of the Black Materia, which Tifa didn't know. Disbelieving, Jenova had formulated another, more cruel scheme to get what she wanted from Tifa, and it had started with allowing Loz to... _play_ with her. He'd used knives...

...And it had been nothing, she thought, compared to what the other two had done to Yuffie before that...

Her left eye twitched, the motion of the tear-like red scar there the only outward indication of the memory.

But it was enough for him to see. "The blades were Mother's idea," he said, almost apologetically. "Not what I had in mind for you, but she was very specific..." He smirked at her. "How many of those scars did you decide to keep?"

"Just two," she responded, her voice cold. She knew what he was trying to do - he was trying to break her concentration. It meant that he could tell that she'd gotten stronger, if he was resorting to this. She'd have to provoke him and return the favor. "You gonna talk or fight?"

He gave up on that game as quickly as he'd started - it was pointless if she was going to try it as well. His punch knocked her back against the wall, but she was able to block; his weapon jabbed into her Pearl Armor, making a terrible noise as it caught and scratched. But the armor held. Bugenhagen had been right - it would be strong for her.

That threw Loz off - he'd fully expected it to shatter like most everything else at a blow like that. Which was why she was able to bring her feet around and kick him in the face, sending him backward until he had the sense to catch himself on the railing.

And then there was a whirr of machinery, and the sound of the electronic evacuation alarm suddenly changed in pitch. Something was wrong. Only then did Tifa realize that she could hear Cid swearing now, and -

Kadaj was in the control room. With Cid. Alone.

Not for long. Cid came flying back down the shaft, slamming back-first into the floor - leaving the room that way hadn't been his idea. But he had the sense to raise and brace his pike immediately.

Kadaj couldn't stop himself, and his shoulder caught and tore on the sharp blade. The boy shrieked, twisting away.

Loz spun aside, instantly reaching for his brother, but Kadaj irritably waved him away. He already had his other hand to the shoulder, the thin green flame of a Cure spell flowing over the wound. "Mine!" He snapped without looking - eyes on Cid, who had pulled himself upright.

Cid was gasping for breath; Tifa prayed that he'd only had the wind knocked out of him. "You didn't have to do that," Cid managed, more than just physical pain in his expression.

An explosion from somewhere else in the station rumbled through the walls. Kadaj had evidently set the station to self-destruct.

It didn't matter what he'd been told; Loz roared, lunging for Cid anyway. He'd _hurt_ Kadaj.

But that meant that he turned his back on Tifa. Her hand shot out, grabbing hold of his floating cape and yanking him back so hard that he spun in the air.

Loz swiftly unlatched the cape from its shoulder clasps, coming for her again even before he seemed to re-orient himself. Good - the two of them couldn't gang up on Cid if she could keep Loz focused on her... Though Cid was unlikely to survive even just Kadaj alone.

She flung the cape up between them, releasing it; it hung where it was as she quickly pulled herself down the corridor. Loz swatted it aside, chasing her without another thought, even as Kadaj laid into Cid again.

There was nothing else she could do, Tifa knew. Cid had chosen to fight. He could've fled with Shera and their son, but he hadn't. And now she'd have to tell Shera...

...Provided that she could get out of this herself...

It was difficult to fight without gravity. Every action caused an equal and opposite reaction; if neither braced, they simply pushed off of each other instead of properly landing blows. It was exhausting.

Tifa barely noticed when they reached the garden again. The sound of escape pods had ceased; everyone who could leave had left. The planet now loomed full above the dome of the garden, and no space could be seen around it. It was closer. They were falling out of the sky.

And then there was a screech, and... _something_ came out of the foliage, filling the air with torn leaves and branches. Something black and red and winged and it had to be Vincent, or at least had to have been Vincent at one point. There was blood spattered all over it, but no visible wounds. There was no sign of Yazoo...

Loz slammed into her, sending her flying into a tree. She grunted, annoyed with herself for becoming distracted, but dug her fingers into the bark enough to push herself aside as he came at her again.

_Then_ she saw Yazoo, slashed and bleeding and huddled in the foliage, blood oozing from a gash in his forehead - his crown was missing. His cape was gone now, too - only shreds of material left waving from his shoulder armor. He had eyes only for the demon that circled above. It was clawing its way over the inside of the dome with its head turned nearly backwards as it scanned for its prey with fiery eyes that glowed brighter than the Princes'.

And Yazoo was raising his gunblade, aiming...

If he hit the dome instead of the beast, they were all dead.

Tifa didn't have time to cry out. Loz was on her again, driving her into the floor, one hand at her throat while he clung to a tree root and pulled himself down with the other. Another root snapped beneath her head and shoulders; she felt the broken edges tangling in her hair. She kicked, knew that the blows must hurt him, but that he was too far gone to care. She gasped for breath, trying to look away from his snarling face... focusing the blood that floated away in Materia-sized drops from the wound on his arm, torn open by the broken housing of a light fixture she'd shoved him into...

Yazoo fired.

There was a monstrous howl, and a terrible cracking sound, followed by a hiss and further cracking. Yazoo had hit the creature _and_ the dome.

"Idiot!"

Loz's head snapped up, his hand at her throat reflexively easing. Tifa gasped for breath.

But the angry shout had been for Yazoo, not Loz. Kadaj was gliding in through the doorway. His cape was still intact, giving evidence to exactly how little difficulty he'd had in dealing with his opposition. His stained, double-bladed sword hung loosely from one hand, and Cid's bloody body from the other. "Get to the escape pods before -"

There was another loud crack. The hiss became stronger. The station was losing atmosphere - it was only a matter of minutes, if that, before the dome broke open completely.

"Behind you!"

Kadaj whirled at Yazoo's warning; the thing that wasn't quite Vincent had pushed off of the dome to swoop down at the boy, claws outstretched.

Kadaj's sword was swift; the creature couldn't alter course, and one wing was suddenly hanging limp, blood spurting. It howled again...

...But Kadaj had never been its target. It lashed out as it stopped, claws digging into the roots on the floor, and yanked Cid's limp form from the boy's grasp. And then it was off again, speeding through the trees toward the escape pods at the other end of the garden.

Kadaj gave chase with an angry cry, sheathing his sword without cleaning it and grabbing Yazoo by the arm as he passed. "Come _on_!" He shouted at Loz.

Loz released her neck and pushed away, obedient this time. Tifa tried to rise, but her hair was tangled in the roots; it took her a moment to find purchase so that she could push until the tangles tore away. She righted herself quickly and headed for the pods as well.

Damned if she was going to be the only one to die here. She'd take Loz with her if nothing else.

The pods were in sight, and Loz was drifting toward the one already occupied by his brothers. That was easy to take care of. She braced herself against the last tree, aimed, and clenched her fist. Her forearm glowed briefly...

...And then a shining bolt of electricity arced out, branches of it crawling across the metal for a moment before it struck her target: the locking mechanism for that escape pod. She'd considered it too dangerous to use Materia on the station before - hell, even Kadaj had apparently said as much to his brothers - but there was no point in holding back now.

Loz stiffened, unable to even cry out - he was in the way, and some of the Bolt spell struck him as well. Kadaj shouted something, reaching wildly toward his brother's still and drifting body; Yazoo barely had the chance to turn to see as the pod closed in their faces.

Tifa looked toward the other occupied pod - but her attack seemed to have activated it as well. She caught a glimpse of the monster's face - now much closer to Vincent's, drained and inarticulately calling out to her, eyes pained but still glowing - before that door closed as well.

Loz twitched, gasping, the stun wearing off already.

There were a few pods left. Tifa mentally praised Cid for his redundant design, and even praised Shinra for letting him get away with it. And prayed that Cid might somehow still be alive.

She launched herself forward, toward one of the remaining pods, just as a scream of metal and glass came from above. The dome had given way.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square-Enix, and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	3. I Lost My Soul When I Fell to Earth

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Edited to include some explanation of canon at the end of the chapter!

Thank you guys for the kind reviews. :-)

...I've been a SciFi fan all my life, and been writing for

nigh twenty years now, but this is the first explosive decompression

I've written. Not that this is important or anything;

just amused me muchly to realize it. XD

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Space Lord" by Monster Magnet

* * *

**(03: I Lost My Soul When I Fell to Earth) **

* * *

Tifa's first instinct was to hold her breath, but luckily for her lungs, she'd no time to try. It was sheer luck that she was close enough to the pod to catch hold of the edge of the entrance. Everything rushed toward what had been the ceiling - trees, soil, anything remotely loose that could pull away. The air itself tore the room to pieces, pulling everything in its wake.

She clenched her teeth, the growing pain in her ears nearly unbearable, and pulled into the pod with all her strength. Her breath was gone, and her consciousness couldn't be far behind, and it _hurt_.

Something hit her leg and latched on. Loz. His face was ashen, teeth gritted, eyes nearly clenched shut but still glaring; she doubted that he'd release her, even if she tried to kick him off. Maybe if he blacked out before she did... but she wouldn't bet on it.

All she had to do was let go, and the world would be rid of two problems at once.

Instead, her body seemed to move of its own accord - pulling them both further into the pod. Somehow, she was still unable to override the instinct for self-preservation.

She reached the interior door control and clumsily hit the switch, her fingers numb. The door began to slide shut, the pod already sensing the loss of air and attempting to fill the cabin and pressurize.

Loz lost his grip on her. Tifa prayed that he'd be sucked back out into what was by now vacuum, or that he'd get in the way of the closing door and be cut apart by the machinery. She didn't look. She curled into a ball, drifting into the cabin as the pod launched, with her eyes squeezed shut and her hands over her ears in a vain attempt to stop the excruciating pain. Everything seemed to stop...

Breathing. She was breathing...

"_Bitch!_"

Her eyes snapped open, but it was too late. Loz had her, flinging her into the wall with one hand. His voice was choked and rough, as though something inside him had been damaged, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

She hit the wall, but with nothing like the force she'd expected; the monitor that her shoulder struck didn't even crack. She gasped, realizing that her ears no longer hurt quite so badly - the pod had successfully established atmosphere.

She expected another attack, kept her eyes on him - but he didn't come at her right away. He seemed to be having trouble breathing, still pale, his lips... blue implied too much color. She realized that the depressurization had probably drained half the blood right out of him through the gash in his arm. It had been bleeding badly enough before, and it was still at it, but slower now, the large drops slipping away erratically.

She wondered why he hadn't used a Cure spell yet. Not that she was going to suggest it to him. If he kept up like this, he'd be dead before long.

An alarm sounded - a subdued beeping this time. They were hitting the planet's atmosphere already...?

Tifa's eyes widened and she pushed off of the wall, catching one of the seats and dragging herself into it. She hastily drew the straps around herself, trembling fingers fumbling with the latch.

The alarm changed in pitch. The station had already fallen too close; they were hitting the atmosphere faster than the pod was designed for.

"You're making... yourself... an easy target," Loz panted, straining to pull himself toward her with his wounded arm. He was shaking - hadn't even realized that the fact that he had to work to move meant that gravity was no longer zero.

She ignored him and gritted her teeth, tightening her hands around the straps. The broken bits of twigs and tree root caught in her hair jabbed into her scalp when she tilted her head back against the headrest. If she survived, she'd consider cutting her hair...

The alarm hit an even more insistent pitch.

His hand almost reached her throat.

Almost.

There was a sudden jolt. In space, the pod's speed had been unnoticed - there was no point of reference. It was obvious, now, that it was slowing.

And Loz wasn't. Tifa heard him hit something behind her - the sharp sound of cracking bone was loud enough to hear over the roar of re-entry. He didn't cry out.

Tifa closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do now but wait.

* * *

The air was cold, humid - far above, snowstorms raged. But here, at the bottom of Northern Crater, they were protected from the arctic wind.

She was standing _there_ again. She'd been back to this place so often in her dreams, both sleeping and waking, that she knew exactly what would happen, and could only stand in despair, powerless to stop it.

Overhead, an impossible tree branched out, a gigantic piece of natural Materia locked in its branches. She tried not to look into the Materia. She knew what was there.

Perhaps it wasn't Materia at all - just a pearl, generated by the Lifestream trying to expel something terrible that it couldn't otherwise deal with.

_"How did I join SOLDIER?"_

"Cloud," Tifa whispered, hiding her face in her gloved hands. Gloves that were whole and new, like the rest of her outfit. Her clothing, her body, her heart - six years ago, everything had been whole and untainted, up until this moment.

_"Why... Why can't I remember? I'm... I'm..."_

"No, Cloud, don't. Come back." Her voice was dull, listless. She'd replayed these scenes so many times in her mind... She knew it didn't matter what she said. He couldn't hear her. He could never hear her.

_"That's right..."_

"I didn't care if you were real or not," she said aloud, tears running down her face. "I loved you anyway."

_"I didn't have to worry about it, because I was..."_

"...Cloud..." The lump in her throat made it hard to speak at all.

_"Let's go, Tifa. I'm... I'm all right."_

He'd lied to her.

"Especially you, Tifa. I'm really sorry. You've been so good to me... I don't know what to say..." Cloud was standing in front of her, so close that she could touch him. She _wanted_ to touch him, throw herself into his arms, beg him to stop.

Her hands moved down, away from her face. She couldn't stop crying. "Cloud..."

He shook his head. "I never lived up to being 'Cloud'. Tifa... Maybe one day you'll meet the real 'Cloud'." His smile was gentle and sad.

"But you were as real as I needed," she whispered.

_Tifa, don't do this to yourself. Don't cry. It's all right -_

"Shut up." There it was again. The other voice. The one that sounded like Cloud and told such terrible lies and wouldn't leave her alone.

_Please, please, forgive yourself. It's all right. I love you._

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"

Cloud was rising into the air. She looked up, reached out, fell to her knees sobbing.

She could hear Hojo's voice, like a black snake slithering through the memory. "You see, even if Jenova's body is dismembered, it will eventually become one again. That's what is meant by Jenova's Reunion."

Cloud was upside-down above her head, in the roots of the Materia tree. He sat, folding his arms over his knees.

He'd known what was going to happen. He'd tried to apologize in advance for what he was going to do. Tried to say goodbye.

Cloud stood and moved toward the giant suspended Materia.

The ground shook; bits of debris rained down, and the Materia slipped down a bit, so that all could see what lay within. She saw only Vincent and Hojo with her, and Vincent was staring only at the scientist. There had been others, but they seemed to be gone now, and Hojo was cackling madly, enthralled. "This is perfect! Both Jenova's Reunion and Sephiroth's will! They won't be diffused into the Lifestream, but gathered here!"

She knew that it didn't matter what she did. Shaking her head, she grabbed Hojo by his coat, screaming in his demented face. "What the hell is wrong with you!"_ Cloud has the Black Materia! Sephiroth is going to summon Meteor! Every single person is going to die!_

She looked up at Cloud. He was reaching out his hand toward... what remained of Sephiroth, sealed in Materia. The Black Materia glimmered in Cloud's grasp.

"CLOUD!"

She couldn't control herself in this dream any longer, only remember. She'd run to Vincent; he'd been so stunned as she flung his cloak aside that he hadn't moved to stop her. She'd snatched his gun from its holster, cocked, aimed...

Vincent finally found his voice. "Tifa!"

Hojo was laughing.

She was trembling so much that it was hard to aim, but this was the only chance they had to stop Meteor from being summoned, wasn't it?

She pulled the trigger.

The hammer fell.

The world ended.

* * *

Slowly, Tifa became aware of a soft, slow, persistent beeping.

She twitched - found herself suspended on one side, with her seat's straps digging into her arm. The pod was dark, a dim green monitor that occasionally flickered the only illumination aside from the red emergency lights around the hatch. The beeping was timed to the cursor on the monitor.

She felt very, very heavy. Her eyes were wet.

She managed to get her hands around the buckle of the straps and pushed the release button. The seat was oriented on its side, but she thought that she'd be able to hang onto the straps long enough to get out of the seat without falling.

She was wrong. The second it unlatched, she gracelessly tumbled out onto the wall. The pod didn't move, so at least that wall was likely to stay the floor for the foreseeable future.

She lay still for a few minutes, taking stock of the situation. Obviously, the pod had managed to land on the planet - on solid ground, it felt like - and she was alive, so the parachutes must've fired. She couldn't have blacked out for that long - the air in the pod hadn't gone stale yet.

It did seem a bit warm, though, but that was a welcome change. The station had been cool even before it lost atmosphere, and freezing after.

She hurt. Her ears still ached, though not nearly so badly now, and her shoulder hurt a bit from where the strap had dug in. Other than that, there seemed to be just scrapes, cuts, bruises, and possibly fractures from the fight. No major damage, other than how badly her throat hurt when she tried to swallow. That could be mended.

Something was tickling her fingers, she realized. She raised her head a little, turned to see.

She gasped, tensed. Her fingers were about three inches from Loz's mouth, and the bastard was still breathing. He was unconscious with a pool of blood under his head, and his breathing was shallow, but he was breathing nonetheless.

She sat up and pushed herself backward so fast that it made her dizzy, instinctively reaching for the Zolom-fang knife at her side. It was hard to tell in just the backup lighting, but it looked like his color was better, and the wound on his arm... was gone. So he'd eventually realized that he'd die if he didn't heal... either that, or he'd wasted a Phoenix Down...

But at the moment, he was down, and wouldn't be getting up any time soon. The side of his head was cut - it had stopped actively bleeding at this point, but he must've hit it pretty hard - and even if he did wake up, his right leg had bone sticking out of it in two places. He wasn't going anywhere.

The corner of her mouth twitched. He was at her mercy.

Pity that mercy was in such short supply these days.

* * *

**Further Author's Note:** For those of you less familiar with FF7 canon, Tifa's dream is taken from the scene in the game that culminates (in canon) with Cloud handing the Black Materia over to Sephiroth. This was where I diverged from canon for this AU.

The story in the game goes something like this: there's a giant crater near the north pole (translated as either Northern Cave or Northern Crater between canon sources). It was formed when a meteor struck the Planet thousands of years ago. Someone used the Black Materia to summon that meteor, and the idea was that the planet's life energy (Lifestream/Mako) would be attracted to that wound to heal it (and that person would absorb the mako and become a god/drain the power of the Planet in order to leave it, basically). So the Northern Crater is still one of the most Mako-rich places on the planet.

Five years before game start, Sephiroth found out he was constructed from Jenova DNA and went insane, and he jumped/fell into the Lifestream (carrying Jenova's severed head) in the Nibelheim Mako Reactor. The Lifestream spat Seph/Jenova out into the Northern Crater, encased in congealed Mako (a.k.a. Materia) like a pearl. (The Sephiroth that the heroes chase through most of the game is nothing but psychic projections from Seph/Jenova, and sometimes physical clones that the Jenova cells have shapeshifted to give Seph's appearance.)

( they're not clone clones, they're experimental subjects who underwent some of the same processes as were performed on Sephiroth. Cloud is technically one, that's why Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo refer to him as "brother" in Advent Children - he's one of the last remaining humans on the planet to have Jenova cells. Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo, however, are by actual canon (according to supplemental texts) not clones of any sort, but fragments of Sephiroth's will made manifest (Shinentai or Remnants) - which is actually referenced in this scene. Hojo says "Both Jenova's Reunion and Sephiroth's will! They won't be diffused into the Lifestream, but gathered here!")

Anyway, if you go to youtube dot com and search for

"FF7 12 Giving Sephiroth the Black Materia",

you'll find a video clip, the first half of which covers this particular scene.

The second half of the clip shows a Weapon attack. Weapons show up in NdlL too, around chapter 8. They're megamonsters generated by the Lifestream like white blood cells, meant to eradicate threats to the Planet, and were forming in the Northern Crater around Seph/Jenova to keep an eye on them. When Seph gets the Black Materia, they freak and Seph expels them from the Crater.

...Which was where I diverged from canon. In this story, instead of Cloud giving Seph the Black Materia so he could summon Meteor, Tifa shot Cloud with Vincent's gun. She didn't mean to kill him, but she did. And Seph freaked, and the Weapons freaked, and in the chaos the Black Materia disappeared, but Jenova thinks that Tifa has it.

Phew:-)

* * *

**Disclaimer:**The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square-Enix, and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes. 


	4. Paranoia's All I've Got Left

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Papercut" by Linkin Park.

Because you knew there had to be some Linkin Park involved somewhere in this.

* * *

**(04: Paranoia's All I've Got Left)**

* * *

First things first... Tifa leaned forward, shoving at Loz's body until she could unstrap his belt, taking his sheathed gunblade and dagger with it. The pilebunker on his arm was next. She picked up his crown as well - it had come off, dented on the side where his head was cut, and had fallen into a corner.

She looked at the red Materia set into the center of the dark metal circlet. The Queen had such an ego, dressing Her boys like this. ...Which was strange, given that Jenova's personality had come from Sephiroth, who never would've bothered with a crown. But then, She hadn't been what He'd expected -

- Screaming and crying and blood and feathers and His body was tearing itself apart but He'd rather die than go back to Her -

Tifa closed her eyes against the memory. She had watched, and told herself that she felt no pity. Not after what He'd done. Not after all the destruction He'd caused and the lives He'd taken and what He'd brought into being and what He'd done to Cloud. No pity, no matter how much pain He was in.

She looked at Loz again. In their appearance and personalities, all three of the Princes seemed to be... pieces of Sephiroth. Jenova had wanted Him back, blamed Tifa and her companions for His death despite the fact that the most they'd done was bound Him down at His own request. So she'd created her Princes.

As with Sephiroth, it seemed that the act of Creation was not Her strong point. Tifa wondered if Jenova had always intended there to be three Princes - or if She'd just messed up that badly. Each was individual, but none of them seemed complete alone.

Which meant that killing Loz would be a serious blow... Unless, of course, the Queen had three more spring up in his place...

Figuring out what to do with him could wait a few minutes. Tifa looked over the weapons in her hands, but decided against wearing any of them; gunblades weren't her expertise, and she had enough knives of her own. The gauntlet was a temptation, but it wasn't fitted to her slender arm, and she was right handed rather than left.

She used her toe to open one of the supply lockers at the side of the pod. It was packed with rations; excellent. She swapped those out for the weapons.

She paused to unstrap her own armor, stuffing the shin and thigh guards into the compartment as well, along with her own gauntlet. The Pearl Armor functioned well in battle, but it was a bit bulky for crawling around a cramped escape pod.

Pearl Armor, Bugenhagen had said. Pearls were formed by grains of sand in oysters - something strong and beautiful formed from some worry that wouldn't leave, and could only be coated and sealed and smoothed. "This armor will serve you well," he'd said. "Your heart is its kin."

Much as she wanted to die, Rufus had told her point blank that so long as she lived and Jenova wasted Her time chasing her down, the Queen wouldn't find the Black Materia and destroy the world. Staying alive was all that she could do for the planet.

So she made herself strong and armored herself and stayed alive. It was her only way to atone for what she'd done.

She reached up to touch the armor on her left shoulder. It had been SOLDIER armor, once. Cloud's.

That, she would not remove.

Tifa crawled to the hatch in the end of the pod. A small green light at the latch indicated that it was safe to open.

She pulled the lever; the portal unsealed with a hiss of equalizing pressure, and she pushed it open. A whiff of dry, slightly ash-scented air wafted in. Sooner or later, the planet would turn all that ash into soil, and that scent would fade away...

...Provided it could survive long enough to do so.

The light outside was blazing white. It took several silent minutes of squinting before her eyes adjusted at all, and even then, all she could see was a smooth sandstone wall. She pushed the hatch open a bit further and stuck her head out.

They seemed to have tumbled into some sort of canyon. The sun beat down from the opening far above - no wonder the pod was warm. It wouldn't take long for the sun's arc to take it out of range, though. Night here would be long and cold.

Not much choice at the moment, though. She ducked back inside, pausing to allow her eyes adjust again. This seemed to be a desert. Determining _which_ desert would have to wait a bit...

Tifa checked lockers until she found an empty satchel, and crouched over Loz again. He still hadn't moved. Time to set to work.

Half an hour later, the satchel was nearly full, and Tifa's arm was tired from overusing her Steal Materia. She cast a final Scan, at last satisfied that she'd stripped all the Materia out of him. The bag would barely snap shut - he must've been practically _living_ on the stuff. Yuffie was going to love this.

He was still breathing, but he hadn't moved at all the entire time. Usually a Steal spell was at least _noticeable_. That was why it usually only worked once at a time. Tifa's scowl deepened; he'd gone all grey again when she'd started pulling his stamina-enhancers.

Not her problem. She grabbed one of the ration packs, poked through another compartment until she found a Potion, and scrambled out of the pod, dragging the bag of Materia behind her.

He hadn't even _had_ a Restore Materia. No Cure spells. Must've had Phoenix Down and used it up.

The air out here was just as hot as that inside the pod had become, but at least there was a bit of a breeze. She surveyed the area: bone-dry canyon, sides steep but cut with ledges, curving away into the distance in both directions. There was a diagonal gouge dragged through the wall that the bottom of the pod faced, and the pod seemed to have taken some damage, the metal sharpened and twisted at the edges. The parachutes had pulled loose, and were strewn about the canyon where the wind had blown them.

It hadn't been long, but the sun was already fading, shadow beginning to consume the canyon floor. Of course, that likely only meant that it was past noon now.

Tifa ran her fingers through her hair, knocking lose the remaining twigs trapped there and untangling a few snarls. Even with the location signal that the pod was likely projecting, this crevasse was narrow; being found was unlikely. And that was assuming that being found via the escape pod was a good idea. Loz's brothers were going to be searching for any escape pods launched after theirs, provided they'd survived as well.

She sighed, pulling herself onto a flat, still sunny ledge a little ways up the wall and cracking open the Potion. She gulped it down, feeling her body's damage painfully correcting itself even before the burn in her mouth faded. There was a reason that Cure spells were preferable - Potions were _painful_ - but there was no sense wasting that energy.

She took a deeper breath, almost coughing at how dry the air was, before tearing into the rations. They were nothing special, but anything could taste good if you were hungry enough, and it had been nearly a day since she'd last eaten.

When she was finally down to just sipping the water pack, she stood, eyeing the canyon wall. There were ledges, but it wasn't as though they'd been designed for human convenience; they were spaced too far apart for easy climbing.

She finished the water pack, cast Float on herself, and began to make her way up the wall.

The sun was so bright at the top that she had to cover her eyes and peer through her fingers. The wind was stronger, too, but the feel of the sun on her skin made her certain that she'd be burned if she stayed too long.

There were mountains behind her, and the rocky plateau seemed to stretch far off into the distance ahead, disappearing in a golden haze. The sun seemed to be heading for the mountains, indicating which way was west.

It didn't help much. There were several deserts in the world that could fit this geography.

Tifa pulled her PHS from her belt and held it up, intending to check for reception if nothing else - but the device had a large crack down the back, and the screen was blank. It was completely non-functional. She groaned and gave it a satisfying pitch down into the canyon, listening to it bounce off the rocks.

She floated back down before the spell wore off. She'd just have to do it again once night fell, to have a look and see if she could see lights anywhere.

The bottom of the canyon was growing cool as the shadows crawled up the sides. It crossed her mind that it would be good to make a fire, but there didn't seem to be any materials handy for doing so. Instead, she spent a few hours gathering up the parachutes, fashioning some of the white shreds into a cloak for herself. It helped.

She'd checked back in the pod periodically, but Loz still hadn't moved at all by the time she finished.

She looked up at the thin crescent of sky visible above - still bright. Plenty of daylight left. In this case, that meant plenty of time to rest before nightfall.

She crawled back into the pod, propping the door a bit for fresh air. It would stay warmer inside the pod. Another compartment held thermal blankets - Cid had specified that these escape pods be fairly well outfitted, obviously. She folded one blanket to sit on and wrapped another around herself, and settled into the corner with another water pack, next to the still-glowing monitor.

A little work with the pod's computer got the power off - there, no more beacon to bring more trouble down on her head, and no more annoying beeping. She cracked a couple of glow-sticks and suspended them from the seat she'd fallen out of. The pod was warm and secure, and should stay that way just long enough. After dark, she'd try to determine if there was anywhere she could head to, and if not, she'd move out of the pod anyway. It was too obvious a place for her to stay.

She settled back again, gnawing on the straw of the water pack. At this point, she knew she was just avoiding the real problem.

Loz hadn't died yet, but he looked like hell. His breathing was so light now that she wouldn't have noticed it without specifically checking - if it hadn't been so _fast_. He seemed to be panting like a dog, erratically, and definitely had a fever of some sort.

She'd been hoping that he'd die while she wasn't paying attention, Tifa admitted. It would've saved her the trouble of figuring out what to do with him. And, she was quick to point out to herself, it would've been pretty satisfying, too - to let him die slowly of injuries he'd gotten through his own stupidity.

Still might have a chance of that, she reflected, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

_Don't let him die._

She opened her eyes slightly, staring idly at the glow-sticks without moving her head. There was that damn voice again. The one that let her know that she'd completely lost her mind, though it never said as much. The one that insisted on sounding like Cloud.

_Don't let him die, Tifa. Don't make yourself so cruel. It's not you._

Six years ago, that would have been true, she thought. Even four years ago, she would've fallen all over herself trying to save the creep's life, out of the desperation to keep from shedding more blood. But as of two years ago...

_Listen to me. Don't let him die. He is __**necessary**__._

Tifa bit down hard on the straw of the empty water-pack. What an odd thing for that annoying voice to say. What part of her could possibly prompt it to say such a thing? What part of her thought this monster was worth something?

She closed her eyes again. No way was she letting that voice tell her what to do. It had been harassing her for years; only Vincent knew just how bad it really was, and he kept that secret as well as he kept all the others.

"Piss off," she said aloud, clutching the blanket tighter around herself. "You aren't even real."

_I'm not asking you to forgive him. Just don't let him die._

"I'm not wasting even one Cure spell on that bastard," she growled.

_Who said anything about Cure spells? Potions hurt more._

The corner of her mouth twisted upward. She was up and digging into the first-aid compartment almost instantly. A live hostage was better than none at all, right? A live hostage could feel pain...

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square-Enix, and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	5. Cut My Life Into Pieces

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Warning: non-graphic depiction of torture (as mentioned in chapter 2), which might just be vague enough to get to people. Kinda gets to me, but I'm imagining it and trying to pick the right words, so I can't tell what effect it might have on other people. I apologize in advance if this squicks anyone.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Last Resort" by Papa Roach.

* * *

* * *

**(05: Cut My Life Into Pieces)**

* * *

Loz really _had_ been nearly gone, Tifa quickly realized. She'd expected some sort of reaction, at least, to the first Potion she poured over the wound on his head - but there was none.

She stopped and cut a length of strap from one of the seat harnesses and used it to tightly bind his hands together before proceeding.

The second and third Potions, she simply poured into his mouth, and waited.

After a long moment, Loz suddenly went stiff, back arching. He swallowed and choked, sputtering as he tried to turn onto his side. The bones still sticking out of his right leg shifted, and he gave a strangled scream.

Tifa tried to smile. This was satisfaction, wasn't it? She remembered how he'd weakened her two years ago - carving into her skin, healing her and wiping the canvas clean, and then starting again. The bastard deserved pain.

She sat back and waited for him to come to his senses enough to focus on her. When he did, his expression hardened, his glowing blue-green eyes narrowing.

"You're probably wondering what's happening," she said, her lips twisted into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Unfortunately, you survived re-entry without being strapped in. Don't know how many Phoenix Downs that took you, but you're out now. I checked. I was just going to let you die, but then I thought, I can't do that. I owe you, after all."

He tried to raise his head and failed; it thumped back to the floor, the pooled and half-dried blood beneath it spattering a little. He looked confused for a moment - but then it dawned on him that she'd taken every Materia he had. "Bitch," he mumbled, glancing at her hand - she still held the short dagger that she'd cut the strap for his hands with. "Should've just killed me."

Tifa involuntarily tightened her grip on the knife. "Probably," she muttered under her breath. "But how would that affect your little family, then? Would your brothers cry for you, or would your mother just replace you?"

"Shut up." He turned his head away, eyes a little unfocused. Sweat stood out on his brow.

"No." She tried to gauge his reaction. Would it be worth it, to keep him alive, as a hostage?

_Don't let him die._

It was a strange feeling, having him under her power like this. It felt... good, she supposed. She had to admit that the instinct to keep him in pain was a little frightening... But by the time he'd been told to stop, two years ago, he'd had her crying and begging for mercy. It was only proper to return the favor, right?

"I'm sure that your leg must really hurt," she went on, the twisted smile becoming more thin and grim. "Does it hurt much as having half your skin cut off, though, I wonder? Or should I kick at it a bit just to be sure?"

He shuddered. It must indeed have been bad already, if the prospect of further pain disturbed him. Good.

But what came next gave her pause. Still not looking at her, he quietly spoke. "You never used to be so cruel."

The smile fell away; Tifa sat back, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I know," she responded quietly. "You do thorough work, you and your family."

Her resolve was slipping. Had slipped. Dammit, that voice in her head had known that this would happen. The scream that Loz had given upon waking - too pained and shocked to hold the note of outrage she'd expected - had been enough. The anger she'd harbored for the past six years over everything that Jenova and her sons had done... not even that could make her outright torture anyone. Not even him.

"Do it, then," he huffed, closing his eyes with a half-hearted attempt to test the binding at his wrists. "You want to play, then play." And then his eyes opened slightly again, the corner of his mouth twitching as though he resisted smiling. "Unless you're all talk..."

Tifa nudged at his leg with her toe. The noise he made sounded as though he were trying to scream again and breathe at the same time. It was hard to tell with only the light of the glow-sticks, but he seemed to still be ghostly pale beneath the bloodstains.

She looked away, scowling. Enough of this. "You're a waste of my time," she snapped. "...If you move, you'll wish I _had_ killed you."

She moved past him to the compartment she'd hidden the weapons in. Partially unfolding some of the parachuting she'd salvaged, she began to load the weapons into it, bundling them all together. From his position, Loz couldn't see what she was doing.

Quickly finishing, she slung the bundle onto her back and crawled toward the hatch. She shoved the bundle out, then followed without looking back. Loz made no comment.

Outside, in the cool dry air, she huddled with her chin on her knees and her back to the pod, and stared at the rocks strewn about the canyon floor. After several minutes, one of the rocks turned out to be a dusty little lizard, which had evidently decided that it was safe to move again, if _she_ wasn't going to move.

It had been two years ago, maybe a bit more, that she'd been captured. It had started with Yuffie.

Yuffie hadn't trusted Tifa since... since what had happened in the Northern Crater, but it had really been the destruction of Wutai that had cinched it. To the daughter of one of the heads of that nation, young and accustomed to dealing in absolutes, Tifa was unforgivable. She accepted that Tifa was the only thing distracting Jenova from destroying the world, and did her part to help, but they only spoke to each other as necessary. It was obvious that the girl thought - with an immature certainty - that Tifa was likely to turn on the rest of her teammates the way she seemed to have turned on Cloud.

Two years ago, Yuffie had gone off with a couple of Shinra's Turks after a rumored Huge Materia. They'd encountered the Princes, who were following the same rumors.

The battle was swift - Reno, Rude, and Yuffie were no match for Jenova's sons. Rude was left for dead; it was he who found Yuffie's PHS and used it to call for help. Reno and Yuffie had been taken captive.

It wasn't the first time that the Turks had run afoul of the Princes, so at least it was easy to pass off the incident as having not been due to Rufus' orders. But that left Reno and Yuffie to be punished.

After so many infractions, Yazoo in particular had grown to regard Reno as a personal project. This meant, however, that he was also not as guarded as his brothers when speaking near the redhead. So, when Reno was allowed to leave the Tower after three weeks, he took the first opportunity to relay to AVALANCHE what was happening to Yuffie.

Kadaj had taken an interest in her, and had no intention of releasing her. It had been sheer luck that she'd been captured while with the Turks - it meant that no one had yet realized her continuing connection to AVALANCHE - but it would be only a matter of time before desperation would break her.

It had taken another agonizing week to orchestrate the rescue operation. It had gone smoothly - Barret, Red XIII, and Vincent entered the Tower, with Tifa securing the escape route, safely outside. They'd nearly had Yuffie out - she'd seemed near catatonic with shock at the time - when the Princes had unexpectedly returned.

Tifa had forced her way in to help when she realized what was happening; Barret and Red XIII had already been wounded badly by the time she reached them. The fighting was fierce - between Tifa and Loz, part of the Tower had actually collapsed from structural damage. But in the end, Tifa had been left with little choice but to bargain herself in exchange for her friends' lives and freedom.

She'd been left in a cell for days, then brought before the Queen and questioned. When her answers failed to please Jenova, she'd been thrown back into the darkness for another few days. When she'd still failed to divulge the location of the Black Materia, the torture had started.

The first time, Loz had simply grown frustrated with her silence and struck her, but the blow had nearly finished her. The Queen had reprimanded him and instructed him in... more effective methods.

The second time, he'd nearly gone too far - she'd almost bled to death before Yazoo, passing by, realized and cast Restore on her. Loz had been punished again.

The third time, it had been Kadaj who came to watch. He'd taken what was cut away from her, and she had no desire to ever find out what he'd done with it.

The fourth time, Loz had tasted her blood.

She'd lost count after that. By the end, he'd been able to keep her going for hours, far past the point of her voice going hoarse, before having to heal her. Now and then, the Queen had come to watch, and question. Tifa had never had the answers she wanted.

And then... then she'd been "rescued". And that had been worse.

She picked up a small stone, aimed, and flung it toward the lizard. It hit just below its front foot, and the creature leapt into the air and scurried away.

The knives had been Jenova's idea, he'd said on the space station. She'd known that. She remembered the way he'd run his hands over her, the hungry way he'd smiled at her each time she'd been restrained. She knew exactly what he'd wanted to do with her.

A thump resonated through the hull of the pod. Tifa quickly stood, scrambling back to the hatch.

He was lying still again, but he'd moved. It took her a moment to realize that he must've fainted from the pain. It looked like he'd been trying to reach the rations.

She wondered, as she approached with knife in hand, if just the compound fractures were enough to do that to him, or if he had internal injuries that she hadn't guessed.

It didn't matter. She cut open one of the ration bags and left it next to him.

As an afterthought, she removed the remaining potions from the first aid compartment and took them back outside with her. No sense pushing her luck.

She didn't hear another sound from within the rest of the day, which she spent sitting outside, wrapped in her parachute-cloak, alone with her thoughts. As the sky changed from pale blue to violet, she began to make her way up the canyon wall again.

By the time she reached the top, it was dark enough to tell her what she needed to know. Off to the East, there was a massive golden glow splintered from the horizon. It was enough to tell her exactly where she was.

It was the Gold Saucer.

* * *

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square-Enix, and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	6. Path of Cinders Burning Under Your Feet

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! Your patience is admirable, and every review has made me smile. :-) Thank you!

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Bachelorette" by Bjork.

* * *

**(06: I'm A Path of Cinders Burning Under Your Feet)**

* * *

Under normal circumstances - or as normal as circumstances tended to be for Tifa - approaching a population center like the Gold Saucer would have been out of the question. She was a danger to anyone around her, given what tended to happen the moment her whereabouts became known to Jenova's family or any of the bounty hunters in their employ.

But these were not normal circumstances. If she was to survive, Tifa knew, she'd need supplies. Getting word to someone in AVALANCHE that she'd survived wouldn't be bad, either. She at least needed a functional PHS. There was no help for it.

She readied as much as she could, binding weapons and what limited supplies she had up into packs to carry and leaving enough of the parachute material for a second cloak. It had been full dark for a while before she crawled back into the pod to see to her prisoner.

Tifa simply huddled near the door of the pod for a bit, letting her eyes adjust to the even more dim light and still-warm air inside. After several long minutes of staring at Loz, she stretched out her leg and nudged at him with her foot. "Hey."

He twitched, nothing more. She considered jabbing at his broken leg again...

But then, she'd need him to be able to walk anyway, wouldn't she?

She took two of the remaining Potions and settled next to his broken leg. It didn't much matter if he was awake for this or not... he'd probably wake soon enough.

With a few swift movements, she snapped the larger of the two fragments of bone back into its place, or at least close enough for a Potion to mend it the rest of the way. It was difficult, largely because Loz jerked awake and _shrieked_.

Tifa sat back on her heels and waited for the half-panted, half-howled stream of obscenities to slow before pouring one of the Potions over the wound and starting them all over again. She sat back far enough to avoid his ineffectual thrashing; he managed to dent one of the wall panels with a kick.

When the first wound was healed she stopped, waiting until Loz fell to merely trying to catch his breath. He'd turned on his side, curled as though he could ward her off without causing himself more pain.

She spoke, in a flat tone of voice, as soon as she was sure that he'd listen. "You're hilarious without Materia upping your stamina, you know that?" She regarded him a moment longer, gathering her resolve. "At the moment, you're more valuable to me as a live hostage," she explained. "So I need you to be able to walk. We're crossing the desert to the Gold Saucer."

He flexed his arms, testing the binding at his wrists again, but the strap held. "Whatever," he grumbled.

And then he howled again as Tifa snapped the other bone into place and doused the area with Potion.

Tifa knew enough from her hopeless wandering of the world to know that if they walked through the night and did not stop, they'd reach the Gold Saucer partway through the next day. She wasn't looking forward to the exhaustion or thirst, but at this point, it was nothing new.

The journey wouldn't be so bad, she decided as the sun rose the next morning, if Loz didn't insist on talking at her so much. He'd managed to stay silent for a few hours at first, but then the sand near the crest of a dune had given way under his feet and he'd tumbled down, taking her with him. She'd made a leash for him from another length of strap, and she'd been gripping it so tightly that she hadn't been able to let go in time. After a frantic moment of untangling herself from him and the parachute-cloak she'd bound him in at the bottom, he'd _laughed_, and he hadn't shut up for more than half an hour since.

The first thing he'd said was "You're heavier than you used to be," to which Tifa had responded by reminding that they were both wearing packs of gear, and he'd only laughed again. The conversation hadn't much improved. He was panting and clearly thirsty, but he just kept talking.

To Tifa, who was accustomed to traveling with Vincent, the noise seemed constant and unbearable. She was fairly certain she knew _why_ - Loz was rarely without his brothers, and they spoke with each other often. That, and she was sure that he was trying to throw her off guard. But that didn't make it any easier to ignore.

The third time he mentioned something he'd done to yet another poor human that he and his brothers had kidnapped from somewhere, Tifa rounded on him and punched him in the face.

He hadn't even attempted to block, and he'd staggered under the blow, nearly falling in the sand. He'd only grinned at her and laughed again, raising bound hands and ready to fight, even thus hindered. His nose was bleeding.

She'd jerked him forward by the leash looped around his neck, and couldn't stop herself from glaring as she did it. He knew that he was getting to her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

The sun climbed higher and heated the sand. Tifa occasionally glanced up to try to verify their heading - as of dawn, the Gold Saucer itself could be seen on the horizon, not just its glow - but for the most part, she kept her head down, her makeshift hood drawn low against the glare.

It was mid-morning before she realized that Loz had stopped talking for the most part, but he was still moving along behind her. She permitted herself a small smile of triumph - ignoring him seemed to have worked.

An hour after that, he collapsed. They were halfway up a dune and he simply fell and didn't move. Tifa tugged on the leash a bit, then cautiously made her way back down to him, expecting attack.

She realized as soon as she gathered the courage to kick him onto his back that he wasn't going to attack her. His breathing was shallow and he wasn't sweating at all, and he mumbled something unintelligible, gaze unfocused.

She'd hoped to not have to stop, but there wasn't much help for it; she couldn't have him dying of heat stroke now. The Potions were in the pack on his back, but now that she'd stopped, she didn't have the energy to turn him over again to get them. With a sigh, she simply reached out and cast a Cure spell.

His breathing immediately eased and he closed his eyes - then opened them again, holding up his arms to shield his face from sun and frowning. "Did you just cast Cure on me?"

Tifa finished fishing a couple of the water packs out of the bundle on her back. She hoped that the bundle was still fastened well enough to not come apart. "Don't let it go to your head," she snapped. "Get up."

She let him have one of the waters once he was sitting up on his knees, and kept the other for herself. There were only two more of the water packs left, and she still wasn't certain how far away the Gold Saucer was, or how long it would take to get in.

"Keep moving, and keep your mouth shut so you don't get dehydrated again," she told him as soon as he'd finished. "I'm not wasting another Cure on you."

She hadn't meant to waste any on him in the first place, she thought ruefully to herself. Part of her wished that she'd just left him to die.

They reached the Gold Saucer by mid-afternoon, with another rest and the remaining water on the way.

One positive thing could be said for the state of the world: it ensured that every open bar, brothel, and place of entertainment was nearly always filled to capacity. The need to escape the world was greater than ever. The Gold Saucer had never had it better.

Getting into the Saucer was a simple matter, really. No one ever expected anyone to walk _into_ the prison at its base. It was no problem - the prison itself was mostly deserted now. It was more difficult to do something worthy of getting sent there than it was getting in or out.

So, Tifa marched straight up to the trunk of the Saucer - ignoring the shadowed eyes that peered from the few remaining buildings of the prison - and dragged Loz along until she found a large elevator door and an intercom to use. Anyone watching either didn't care or cared enough to look the other way.

She activated the device. "Yo," a response crackled out of the barely-functional speaker.

"I want to talk to Zhai."

"He's off duty," the voice said after an uncertain pause.

"Get him for me," Tifa said in the same dead tone of voice that she used on Loz. "Tell him it's about a debt."

There was a shuffling sound. "Okay, hang on."

"Zhai?" Loz repeated conversationally, leaning against the wall with folded arms. He tilted his head back and watched her through narrowed eyes. "I can remember that."

"Really." Tifa leaned against the wall next to him, resting her shoulder just below the intercom panel and idly wrapping the leash around her arm. The slack in the leash disappeared, those slit-pupiled eyes watching intently the entire time. The loop around his neck drew tight. "How hard would you have to hit your head to forget?"

Loz finally had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

"Y-yeah," a static-garbled voice said through the intercom.

"Zhai?"

There was silence for nearly a whole minute. Then the voice responded, low and quick, "What do you need?"

"In."

Half an hour later, the mechanical whirring that had been building in pitch finally stopped, and the sand-crusted metal door ground open. Compared to the bright, sunlit view provided by the surrounding dunes, the elevator was black as pitch, despite the fact that it must have had some form of lighting.

Tifa yanked Loz inside, trying to ignore Zhai's startled cry as he took in enough of her captive's appearance to make the connection. "Just shut the door," she said quickly, eyes downcast.

She shouldn't be doing this. She _knew_ that this was wrong. Dragging Loz here practically guaranteed that something bad would happen, even more so than her coming here on her own. But she'd no way to reduce the risk - no way to contact AVALANCHE without going somewhere populated, no way to survive the desert without more supplies, no way to safely ditch Loz but keep him as her hostage. It was only bad luck that the Gold Saucer was the first population center in their way.

She felt like she was betraying Zhai.

Five years before, in that last night in Wutai just before everything went bad, a girl named Lia had tried to stow away on the Highwind. She only wanted to be able to flee her arranged marriage - wanted to travel to Midgar and become a dancer. Zhai was her husband, and had found her on the airship at Cait Sith's prompting.

And then, quite literally, all hell had broken loose. Zhai and Lia were two of the lucky refugees that made it - they'd been able to stay aboard the Highwind.

...Not like the others that they'd literally had to scrape off the rigging in order to lift off, even after Float had been cast on everything that could possibly take the spell. Even Cait Sith and his moogle had gone overboard, only for them to find a third iteration of the puppet waiting for them in Junon.

She'd tried to jump too. Vincent had stopped her.

Like many other survivors, the Zhai and Lia had taken up residence in the Gold Saucer, and the place had boomed with the new infrastructure. The two had never spoken of separation since.

It wasn't fair that they'd been rescued just to be placed in danger again...

"I'm sorry," Tifa whispered as the elevator ascended. Zhai said nothing - only stood to the side by the controls, as far from Loz as he could get.

And then the elevator jerked to a halt, at a lower floor than expected. Someone had used an emergency override.

The doors opened, revealing an utterly hulking man. Loz was big, but this man was bigger, minimally clothed, and glowering at the passengers. He was flanked by two masked guards - possibly former SOLDIERs - with rifles.

The man reached forward, shoving Zhai aside as though the slight man were nothing. "You," he spat.

Tifa found herself unable to meet the man's eyes. "Nice to see you too, Dio."

* * *

**Further Author's Note:** For anybody who doesn't know or remember, Dio is the bodybuilder-type guy that runs the Gold Saucer.

* * *

**Disclaimer:**The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square-Enix, and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes. 


	7. A Little Crushed & Out of Control

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Crushed" by Collide.

* * *

**(07: A Little Crushed and Out of Control)**

* * *

Dio spoke through clenched teeth. "You aren't welcome here." 

"I can pay just like everyone else," Tifa muttered.

"Your money's no good," the man snapped back. "Not worth it. Where you go, death follows." He turned around to leave; if she stepped from the elevator, his men would fire.

"I've got Death on a short leash," Tifa responded, almost laughing at the melodrama. It was true, but it sounded ridiculous.

Something in her tone must've caught Dio's attention. He turned back, and his eyes found the leash in her hand, and followed it to the neck it bound. He moved forward a little - cautiously but without hesitation - and lifted a hand to twitch aside the sandy parachute material over Loz's head.

Dio swore and yanked his hand away, the color draining from his face. "You've only got a third of Death on your leash," he said, recovering. "I want no part of this. I don't want the other two to come here looking for you."

"I just need a PHS and some supplies," Tifa tried.

"No. Leave."

"Dio -"

"Zhai, take them down," Dio instructed. Tifa found herself surprised that Dio knew the young man's name.

"Just one call."

"No."

"Please?"

"Forget it."

"I'll fight."

There was dead silence for a moment. Then, slowly, all heads turned toward Loz.

"You'll what?" Dio growled. Tifa's grip on the leash-strap tightened.

"You've got a battle arena here, right?" Loz asked - as though he didn't know that the Gold Saucer had the largest and most successful competitive arena on the Planet. "Lemme fight."

Dio _twitched_.

There were a few moments of excruciating silence. Tifa was about to turn to Zhai and tell him to take them down when Dio spoke again.

"Can you guarantee the safety of my enterprise here?"

The guards tensed; Zhai covered his face, shrinking back. Tifa blanched. "Dio, you can't be serious."

"I swear," Loz said evenly, staring Dio in the eye. Dio did not flinch away. "This place will come to no harm by me."

"Or your family."

"Or my family."

Tifa glared suspiciously at Loz. He'd spoken for his kin far too easily.

"No harm to anyone in this place, either," Dio pressed. "Unless they're fighting you in the arena."

Loz seemed unable to keep from smiling a little. Tifa hated his smile. "I swear," he repeated, blinking serpent-like eyes. "No harm by my hands or those of my family, unless it's in the arena."

"Dio!" Tifa hissed. "Look, we'll go, just give us some water -"

Dio had a strange, half-wild gleam in his eye. "A deal's a deal. I'm a fair man." He tilted his head toward Tifa, still staring at Loz.

"He's in no position to deal," Tifa muttered, winding the leash tight.

"And yet he has. More successfully than you, I might add." Dio finally looked to her. "You stay as long as you like, so long as he keeps winning. Bearing in mind that my profits will decrease the longer you stay, as I doubt he'll be losing any time soon. First fight in six hours. Rest, eat, do whatever you need to do. Clean him up and disguise him." Dio gave Loz another appraising look, gaze falling to the now-dried blood smeared on the lower half of his face from where Tifa had struck him earlier. "I want him to fight, but I'm not a fool. Word travels fast."

Tifa was ready to debate with Dio on whether or not he was a fool, but in the Gold Saucer, Dio's word was law. The hulking man turned to leave, glancing once over his shoulder as his guards snapped to heel. "Zhai," he commanded. "Attend to their needs. Don't disappoint me."

Zhai seemed like he was making a good attempt to melt into the floor of the elevator. "Sir," he whimpered, though it was impossible to tell if it was in affirmation or pleading against the order.

As Dio and his men left, Tifa gave the leash a yank hard enough that Loz grunted and jerked forward. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

Scowling, Loz drew himself up. Zhai looked as though he might pass out.

"Got you what you wanted, didn't I?"

Tifa's anger flickered, for the briefest moment, with confusion. She realized too late, as Loz's face took on a smug edge, that he'd not only noticed - he'd been seeking such a reaction.

She glared at him with narrowed eyes until his smile faded and he looked away. Then she turned and nodded to Zhai.

Zhai shut the doors again and took the elevator from the maintenance level up to the central platform.

Only a few years ago, the Gold Saucer had been more entertainment center than city. The influx of refugees had tipped the scale, and now it sported a few more hastily-erected platforms. Several lower levels under each platform had been converted from storage to makeshift living quarters.

When the elevator doors opened again, Tifa was confronted with a scene that, years ago, she never would have associated with the Gold Saucer. Instead of the bright candy play-land the place had once been, they stepped out into a grimy, scavenged-material marketplace. The controlled atmosphere that the entire Saucer had once sported was missing from this platform, and the sun's heat washed over rusty corrugated metal buildings. Stalls lined the crowded street, filled with wilting food and half-broken machinery and dusty clothes. Women (and a few young men) leaned from second-story windows, advertising what they had for trade.

It was a lot like the Midgar slums had been when Tifa had first found herself there a decade ago. Just not as damp.

The world had changed so much...

"Stay close," Zhai said, stepping out of the elevator. "We need the transit tubes on the far side of the square. Third from the left."

Tifa pulled the leash tight - it brought Loz uncomfortably close, but there was no other way. They needed to hide that his hands were bound and keep from being separated, and the best way was to keep him so close that he nearly snagged on the bundle on Tifa's back.

He bumped into her several times as they threaded through the crowd. She wished that there was a better way to go, but she knew that the transport tubes didn't connect to the lower, less crowded levels. The traders were calling to them from the stalls, and more than once she caught people simply watching them. This wasn't good.

"Keep your head covered," she muttered, turning to look over her shoulder at Loz...

...Only to see his gaze downcast, watching the concrete street. His expression was serious, and when someone passing the opposite direction barely brushed against his cloak, he _flinched_.

"Too much crowd for you?" She asked, far more curious than sympathetic. The flat tone of her voice shifted a little.

"Shut up," Loz grumbled. Tifa shrugged.

"Well, you know. If you're going to berserk I wouldn't mind knowing in advance."

He didn't respond.

When she looked forward again, she'd lost sight of Zhai - there were so many dark-haired refugees from Wutai like him in the area that she couldn't pick him out once he was too far ahead. Luckily, he was waiting for them at the transport tubes. He led them through to another platform.

Tifa recognized the place when they exited the tube. On this platform, where the dome still stood and the air was cooler, the amusement park still functioned. They even passed the entrance to the Gondola Ride.

She clamped her mouth shut and turned away.

Zhai led them to what had once been a service stairwell, now a main passageway to the living quarters below. Two floors down, and in a broad corridor of sloppily-welded doors, he opened one and let them inside.

"Lia!" He called, pulling the door shut behind them. "We have guests."

The apartment consisted of one low-ceilinged metal room and a small shower room off to one side. There were a few colorful scarves hung on two walls, while the third wall had a cracked counter with a burner, a sink, and an ice chest. There were no windows; the room was lit by a few dim electric lights and a small lantern near some bedding. The heap of bedding shifted, and a young woman with dark, gold-streaked shoulder-length hair sleepily sat up. "Zhai?" She rubbed at her eyes. "You're back early... What do you mean we..." She focused enough to see, and gasped. "Tifa!"

Lia launched herself across the room and nearly knocked Tifa over with an embrace; Tifa stumbled back a step and collided with Loz. She'd never understand why some people seemed to have that reaction to her...

"You're alive! Are you okay? What are you doing here? Is that Vinci-" She stopped mid-word, having ducked her head to see Loz's face. Her eyes went wide and she released Tifa and took a slow step back, as though facing a dangerous animal.

"I'm sorry," Tifa said quietly. "If there'd been another way..."

Lia glanced between Tifa and Loz a few times, her expression close to terrified; Loz made no move, and didn't seem to have even noticed Tifa running into him. Zhai hung back near the kitchen area.

Finally, Lia took a few steps back, moving closer to Zhai before turning away. Tifa's shoulders slumped. "Look, we can stay somewhere else, all right? I'm sorry, I don't want -"

"There isn't really anywhere else," Zhai sighed. "People just keep coming in and there's nowhere to go. The only real inn is the Ghost Hotel, and you wouldn't _believe_ how much it costs now..."

Behind him, Lia was moving at the counter, doing... something. She suddenly turned and approached again - holding up a wet cloth. With a determined expression, she glanced once at Tifa, then moved closer as Tifa reluctantly stepped aside.

Lia raised the cloth and hesitated, and when Loz only stared back and didn't move, she dabbed at the blood on his face. She looked up from what she was doing and met his eyes and shivered, but she didn't stop, and he glanced away as though simply waiting for her to finish.

Of course, Tifa realized. Slaves tending to him was something he was used to. At least that offered Lia, and hopefully Zhai, a little safety of some sort.

Tifa moved aside a little more and shrugged out of the bundle on her back, still holding Loz's leash, though her grip was lighter now. From the glance that Loz gave when the pack hit the floor, she was fairly certain that he'd guessed by now what they carried beyond supplies.

"You still on water rations here?" She asked Zhai, glancing toward the shower room.

He took her meaning. "Yeah, but I'm pretty sure that Dio will let us have an extra allotment for you," he responded. "You need..." He trailed off as he glanced at Loz. If the monster decided to attack or escape, or both, while Tifa was otherwise occupied, there'd be nothing they could do to stop him.

Tifa shook her head at him, then turned back to Loz. Lia was finished and moving away from him, holding the now blood-stained cloth away from her as though it might bite.

"Go wash," Tifa ordered him.

Loz scowled at her, his parachute-cloak and hair and generally every part of him but what Lia had cleaned still thickly dusted with (and sometimes spilling) sand. "What for?"

Her expression changed from cold to angry, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. "Now," she snapped, yanking on the leash to force him to close the distance between them.

He made a strangled, frustrated sound as he stumbled to her, but wouldn't meet her eyes once he was there, showing deference. She'd taken his Materia and, so far as he knew, was using what she wanted of it; so long as he had none, she could take him if it came to that.

Tifa quickly and quietly undid his pack and cloak and removed the leash, revealing the battered black leather beneath. There was still blood on him, dried and flaking, from those he'd killed on the space station.

She pushed the thought from her mind as he tilted his head and held out his bound hands, expression serious but otherwise unreadable. She offered a glare in return as she unbound him. Any fear she had at loosing him was buried under anger and command... she hoped.

He only looked down and away as he shook his arms out, expression relaxing slightly. He swiftly pulled off his coat and boots, and was moving for his pants when Tifa stopped him, shoving him forward. "In there," she snapped, gesturing toward the shower room. "But hand them out when you get them off; they need mending." There were still gaping tears where the bones of his leg had broken through.

When he was safely shut inside the smaller room, she moved back to Zhai and Lia, who seemed to be trying to blend into the wall as much as possible. They watched her with frightened eyes - almost as though they were more afraid of her than of Loz.

Tifa let her expression soften as she made her way back toward the door and dropped Loz's pants with the rest of his clothing, then began working on her own. "I'm sorry about the sand," she mumbled. Not that it was really important under the circumstances. It was only that she was finally relaxing enough for the past few days to catch up with her.

Lia brought the re-wetted cloth over again and started to work on the clothing. "How did you end up dragging _him_ around?" The girl asked, her voice low.

"Crash-landing," Tifa answered, which didn't really answer much of anything. "Got the Materia stripped out of him before he woke up." She pulled off one of her boots, sighing at the sand that poured onto the floor. "He's a miserable hostage, but... you know."

With a tentative smile, she patted Tifa's arm; Tifa tried not to flinch away, with moderate success. Lia's voice was warm. "I think you're doing okay with him."

"It gets worse," Zhai broke in, sounding as emotionless as Tifa usually did. "Dio wants that thing to fight in the battle arena."

"...What?" Lia stopped moving and looked up, suddenly understanding more of her husband's distress. "How did that happen?"

Zhai only stared at Tifa. "He bargained for us," she said softly, turning her gaze down and away. She still wasn't sure how to interpret her enemy's move.

"Oh." Lia went back to cleaning the clothes. "Well." She reached the bloody tears in Loz's pants leg and bit her lip. "Wh-" She'd been about to ask why, but at the way Tifa stiffened, changed mid-word. "When's his turn?"

"A little more than five hours," Zhai answered. "He's to be disguised, too. Lia, you still have those color gels from the Phoenix show a couple of months back?"

Tifa blinked as the girl nodded. "The what?"

"_The Phoenix_," Lia smiled. "Turns out I got to be a dancer after all! I won a contest in the Event Square, and I've been working my way up ever since. I'm a lead in the chorus now! 'Course, there's not a lot to the costumes any more, but what there is looks great," she shrugged. "It's all I ever wanted to do, and it's thanks to you that I get to until the end."

"The end," Tifa echoed, though the meaning sunk in on her. Most people were fairly certain that the Planet wasn't going to last much longer. She usually didn't have time to think about it - she was too busy trying to survive and stave it off.

"So..." Lia wiped the last of the grime and blood from the leathers. "What are you going to do with him, for that long? You look like you need to rest... How do we handle this?"

At that, the corner of Tifa's mouth turned upward. "I have that taken care of." She reached out and cast a low-level Cure spell from her Restore Materia on the pants, watching the leather seal itself at the tears.

When the shower shut off, she opened the sliding door to the anteroom a crack and tossed the pants in without looking. "Get dressed and come sit down," she commanded.

Loz exited a few minutes later, his un-styled hair falling damp about his face. "Why do I have to sit?"

Tifa raised an eyebrow at him, standing solidly between Loz and the rest of the room with her arms folded. She flicked her gaze down to a spot on the floor along the wall, and when he didn't move immediately, added "Now."

He gave her a suspicious scowl and lowered himself down with his back to the wall. "There, now what do you -"

Tifa cut him off by raising her arm and opening her hand near his face. "Sleep."

There was the slight glow of a Sleepel spell, and Loz's mouth opened - and then he keeled over to one side, eyes fluttering shut.

"I'll rest when I've cleaned up," Tifa announced. "Wake me up half an hour before it's time to go."

* * *

**Disclaimer:**The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes. 


	8. I Second Guess My Sanity

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "S.O.S." by Rhianna.

**(08: I Second Guess My Sanity)**

"Get up."

Loz gave a start, blinking a few times before mumbling something involving "Go away" and covering his head with one arm.

Tifa kicked at his leg. "You're on in half an hour and you're not getting another Esuna out of me," she told him. "You wanna break your word with Dio already?"

He moved his arm away from his face. "Fine," he growled, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "...Bitch."

She had the urge to respond in kind to his immaturity and stick her tongue out at him, but this was no time for jokes. Particularly not with _him_. "Just hurry up and do your hair," she ordered. It sounded ridiculous, but it was the best idea they'd had for a disguise so far. "We'll leave your jacket here."

It took a surprising amount of the colored gels to get any of his hair to hang in his face. Loz complained at first, but Tifa pointed out that it was either that or a blindfold to distract from his eyes, and he quieted again.

The first shift in the Battle Arena was the worst, Tifa thought later. Loz - as the Phoenix King, with gold and copper and red hair swept forward and lacking his distinctive jacket - was nearly bored with the low-level fighters thrown at him, and that was dangerous. Tifa said as much to Dio - she stayed the entire time near Dio's seat and refused to leave. But rules were rules; Loz had to work his way up just like any other fighter. And so he did, building on broken bones and cowering opponents.

The Battle Arena had changed. It was as dark and filthy as much of the rest of the Gold Saucer had become, and the audience seats were now separated from the ring with barbed wire. There were long-dry blood stains splashed across the floor and walls. Even the audience itself was different, louder and dirtier and more vicious, waving Gil notes for bets as though the cost didn't matter.

It really didn't so much any more, did it, Tifa thought.

Neither did lives. Killing was acceptable - even encouraged.

She felt on edge the entire time; by the fifth win - a swordsman thrown screaming into the barbed wire with his arms hanging dislocated and limp - she wanted nothing more than to leave. "Dio, you know this isn't safe," she said, speaking with her mouth close to the seated man's ear so that he could hear her over the adulation of the crowd. In the arena, Loz turned with his arms in the air, grinning madly. "Let us go. Some supplies, a PHS, whatever, just -"

"Do you think it wise to disappoint him?" Dio asked her, that wild gleam in his eyes again. He spoke without looking at her. "This was his idea, after all. _Look_ at him."

"Yes, he's wonderful," Tifa responded dryly, specifically trying not to look. She could hear the snap of bone from here as he made short work of the next opponent. "Dio. Supplies?"

Dio huffed. "You said you had money. Go buy your own. He's fine here."

"Don't have enough," Tifa mumbled.

To her surprise, Dio heard her. "Bet on him, then. You'll have your funds by the end of the shift."

Tifa scowled. There wasn't much else she could do. The worst part was that she could leave the Gold Saucer whenever she wanted, she was sure - it was Loz that posed a problem now. If she didn't take him with her...

A young mage entered the ring, sweeping a saffron mantle aside to reveal weapons and the physique to use them as well. Tifa bit her lip; there was a possibility that this one might get somewhere, if he knew anything about combining magic and physical attacks.

For his first spell against Loz, he cast something that gleamed gold in his arm. Tifa saw the man's - boy's - eyes go wide, shining gold themselves, and her lips parted in shock. The kid had a Sense Materia.

The boy turned to the side of the Arena, screaming something that no one could hear over the roar of the crowd. Tifa knew. He'd seen _exactly_ what and who Loz was.

And then Loz was on him - grabbed the mage's wrist and yanked him back, threw him to the floor still gripping his wrist, and brought one booted foot down on his victim's head.

Tifa flinched away, but somehow, those wet crunching sounds always carried over the roar of the audience in a way that voices couldn't. And then the crowd was screaming approval louder than ever, and Loz was laughing.

When she looked back, he was smiling directly at her.

She looked away again, wondering at what point keeping him alive had sounded like a good idea. Oh yeah, when the voices in her head had told her to.

She rubbed at her temples for a moment, feeling a headache coming on. Then she called over one of the bookies to place a bet.

When Dio, beaming at the success of the day's transactions so far, offered her a drink, she readily accepted.

Hours later, Loz left the ring - he'd exhausted the low level fighters, and would start at second level in another eight hours. Tifa waited for him at the gate to the ready rooms, trying to see if she was being watched as she tucked her winnings into a pocket. It seemed that no one cared; thieves had easier marks today. She'd have no excuse to put a would-be pickpocket in his place, at this rate.

Loz emerged wearing the dead mage's deep yellow robe. It stretched a little tight along the shoulders, but was sleeveless, and draped far enough to still appear appropriate. Tifa had to admit to herself that it did go with the hair, and it could only serve to enhance his disguise.

"Hey." He greeted happily, as though she might appreciate it. Tifa looked away in disgust, but he'd already noticed her visually inspecting the cloak. "They said I earned it," he shrugged, picking at the material a little. "I thought it was okay."

"Whatever," Tifa muttered, trying to ignore the bloodstains on the collar and shoulders of the garment. He'd had an easy enough time that his hair had lost none of its camouflaging color, and that was really what she'd wanted to check on. "Come on. We're re-stocking supplies and resting some more before your shift comes up again."

"Do we get to eat?" He asked, shoving his hands into the emptied pockets of the robe. "I'm kinda hungry after all that."

She gritted her teeth. "Shut up and move."

Night was wearing away at this point, but the bazaar was no less crowded than it had been when they'd arrived the previous afternoon. That seemed to be all the incentive that Loz needed to stay close to Tifa, head down for the most part. She heard whispers around them, but most people in the Gold Saucer knew not to accost the Battle Arena fighters, and they were given a wider berth than they had been upon arrival.

The prices were high, but she had enough left over after haggling two proper backpacks, half a case of Wutai War surplus Shinra rations, and a few filthy jugs of water that she decided to resist hunger no longer.

She brought them to a halt when they reached an empty bench in the midst of the market. There were several booths with food lining the area, and Tifa decided on one selling roast spiced meat in buns the size of Loz's fist. It seemed the most filling and easiest to eat, and she didn't have to think about what the meat came from, unlike the next stall, where they were carving slices from a slightly burnt chocobo leg.

"Sit," she told Loz as she sat her full pack on the ground next to the bench. She motioned for him to do likewise with his pack and the water jugs. "Stay."

"Arf," Loz mumbled without looking up, sweeping the cloak aside to sit heavily on the bench. The wood creaked.

Apparently all he needed for an amicable mood was a few hours of slaughtering fighters with less than a quarter his power. If only she'd known, Tifa thought dryly. She only glared at him when he raised his gaze to her. "If you move, you'll -"

"I'll wish you'd killed me, I know." The corner of his mouth twisted upward - he was pushing her and he knew it. "Aren't you gonna ask me what I wanna eat?"

Tifa bit back a couple of choice responses to that, instead saying simply, "No," before stalking off to the food vendor.

She got enough of the large buns to share with Zhai and Lia, but sat with Loz on the bench to eat hers. Loz somehow managed to start in on his third before she'd finished her first; she folded the bag shut and moved it out of his reach after taking her second.

She hadn't been among people like this in years. No one recognized either of them for who they were - they were simply an up-and-coming fighter and his manager/handler/property/whatever. She didn't care what they were perceived as; disguise was disguise. Even if a bounty hunter recognized her here, it was unlikely that one such as that _wouldn't_ recognize Loz, and that still left them undisturbed.

The roast meat buns were actually pretty good; hopefully they weren't human. And she'd gotten them bottles of something to drink that was sweet and home-made and just as unidentifiable as the meat - a small extravagance such as she hadn't had in ages.

The moment was very nearly pleasant.

Loz waited silently for her to finish eating, idly picking at loose splinters in the bench's wood until she said it was time to go.

Zhai thanked Tifa for the buns when they returned to the apartment - it wasn't often that he and his wife could afford such, either. Then he quickly excused himself. He needed to escort Lia home from work, as the Gold Saucer was no longer a place for a girl to walk alone, no matter the time of day.

"Time to rest," Tifa told Loz as soon as the door closed behind Zhai, crouching a moment to arrange the packs and supplies. "You might want to lie down."

She stood and turned - only to have Loz's hand shoot over her shoulder and strike the wall flat-palmed. She gave a small involuntary gasp and thumped back against the wall herself, but could back away no further.

He leaned in far too close to her, tilting his head and watching her reaction with half-lidded eyes, and Tifa gritted her teeth.

"Do you know," he asked in a low voice, "What would make this an even better day?" His other hand came up and -

Oh, _hell_ no.

Tifa tried to swat his hand away from her, but he changed tack to flow with her motion and catch her wrist, pinning her hand against the wall. He gave her a smug half-smile. "Wanna play?"

He moved closer until he had her effectively pinned between his body and the metal wall at her back, his face very close to hers. She didn't stand a chance of pushing him away like this.

But she could change tack, too. She took a few breaths to try to calm herself, steeling herself for her course of action, and then moved. She brought her free hand up to touch him as he had her, lightly resting fingertips on warm leather.

His smile widened. "You like?"

"Loz," she murmured, tilting her head away from his but keeping eye contact. "I'm going to cast Sleep on you. I don't care if you lay down first or not. But if you don't back off, you'll be missing something important to you when you wake up." She tapped at him with one finger. "Understand?"

He pushed off of the wall with a huff, scowling and releasing her. "I did what _you_ wanted for _hours_," he grumbled, moving over to a bare space along the wall where he could sleep out of the way.

Tifa didn't say anything. Her heart was beating rather quickly, and she was certain that her voice would've been unsteady. She simply raised her arm toward him, activating the necessary Materia.

He glanced over in time to see her, expression crumbling into an outright pout. "Wait, lemme -"

"Sleep."

He crumpled to the floor. Tifa walked over to him and nudged at him with her foot, and once she was satisfied that he hadn't much damaged himself in the fall, she moved off to the shower room to wash her hands.

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	9. Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

More thanks to all who have reviewed!

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Bodies" by Drowning Pool.

* * *

**(09: Let the Bodies Hit the Floor)**

* * *

It was nearly the same routine as before to get Loz to his next shift in the Battle Arena, complete with his cursing Tifa upon waking. But he accompanied her there without incident again, and even seemed to hold himself a little straighter, less intimidated by the crowds they passed through.

Tifa didn't like that so much. She'd wanted to keep him intimidated. The sooner they could leave the Gold Saucer, the better.

She scowled every time she looked at him, remembering what he'd done - or tried to do - after the last battle shift. And then what he'd said after. _I did what you wanted for hours_, as though that mattered. Did he even _remember_ that he was her hostage? She gritted her teeth, her expression so fearsome that they seemed to be given even _more_ room by the passers by.

She sat to one side in Dio's box again, at the man's insistence. Dio seemed to rarely take his eyes from Loz, and it was starting to make Tifa uneasy.

The fights were longer this time - well, most of them were - and there were opponents that actually managed to land blows on Loz before he dispatched them. It wasn't quite as painful to watch as it had been the first day, Tifa decided; if anything, Loz appeared to be having an even better time. He seemed to be throwing in flashy moves just to hear the audience's reaction.

She wrinkled her nose as he caught an opponent's hands and flipped backward into an improbable bridge - completed by the victim - before whipping forward to throw the unsuspecting brawler across the ring. The move was inefficient and relied far too much on surprise (not to mention easily-thrown balance) in order to work. He really was just playing.

Loz was still wearing the mage's cloak from the day before - seemed proud of it, even. She remembered the warm tone he'd had when he'd told her that the Arena staff had said he'd earned it. She wondered if he'd ever earned anything before in his short life. Other than, possibly, a slap to the face, though she doubted that anyone had ever administered such and lived to tell.

With the higher-ranking competition, the earnings increased. By the middle of the shift, she had enough for a PHS and, hopefully, a chocobo to use as a pack animal. They could leave that evening if all went well.

Tifa didn't like that "if".

It was a hard decision, but there was no time to spare. "Don't let him out of your sight," Tifa told Dio as firmly as she could... which was enough to make Dio turn to look at her.

"What?"

"I'm going to get a PHS. Should only take twenty minutes or so," she explained. "Cast sleep on him if he gets out of hand. Don't hesitate."

She didn't like Dio's expression. He was smiling but his eyes were still strangely wide, even if they were focused on her instead of Loz at the moment. "There won't be a problem."

She nodded and slipped out of the box anyway. She needed to tell Vincent that she was alive as soon as she could. She just... needed to.

It would've been a different matter if Zhai or Lia had owned a PHS, but neither did. The communications devices weren't cheap, and production had slowed in the past few years. The only one Tifa could get in the market was several years old and pink, and wouldn't activate for a few hours - it had to wait for the proper satellite to pass over the area.

She literally ran back to the Battle Arena, fully expecting to hear screams and see the crowd panicked and find Loz attacking anything that moved... But her fears seemed to be groundless. Loz still fought, and Dio still watched, and nothing seemed to have changed.

Tifa bet again. More funds couldn't hurt, and her luck seemed to be holding.

When the shift ended - with Loz completely victorious again, but what had Dio expected? - Tifa stood to leave, intending to meet Loz at the Arena staging area again. Dio, however, had other plans.

"You're aware," the massive man said just as she stood, "That your, ah, hostage is now well on his way to becoming my star fighter. The managers and sponsors of the top-tier fighters will want to meet him before the next set of matches."

Tifa slowed, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. Dio had gone quite mad, hadn't he. As the man stood, she stopped, and they turned to face each other. Her expression was nothing short of suspicious. "What do you want," she said flatly, not meeting his eyes.

"I'll need both of you to accompany me for a few hours," he explained, approaching her - but then his expression faltered a little. "It's standard procedure, you know. I wouldn't insist if it weren't that_not_ doing so would be quite suspicious."

"I suppose that makes sense," she acquiesced, stepping back to let Dio exit the box first. She had a bad feeling about this.

The mid-level winner's gathering took place at a spacious bar on one of the newer platforms of the Saucer. The building was at one edge, with a wide balcony overlooking the desert, the sliding metal panels of the wall currently open to the cooling evening wind. The interior was reasonably clean, considering, but still composed primarily of age-dark and occasionally rusting metal and ceiling fans that Tifa was certain were salvaged airplane propellers.

Loz was the only one of the mid-level fighters to be able to attend, and the overall winner anyway. Dio sat him near the middle of the bar, like a centerpiece, and spoke animatedly to all who wanted to know - which was nearly everyone in the crowded place - about how he'd found such a gem in his very own prison, lurking at the base of the Gold Saucer.

Tifa was left to, of all things, serve Loz. She supposed that she should be insulted that Dio was passing her off as his fighter's servant, but honestly, she was beyond caring. Besides, it kept her close to him, and kept others away.

...Close enough to smell the blood that now soaked much of his cloak...

Loz had said little, beyond greeting her after the battle and agreeing to Dio's demands. He was none too comfortable in this close a crowd with so much attention focused on him, and kept his eyes lowered and his mouth shut for the most part. It wasn't as though they really had any talking to do at all, the way Dio was going.

Tifa could be thankful for that, at least.

She was stationed behind the bar, facing Loz and the rest of the room; to either side of her were a few of the bar's regular bartenders. Dio knew her history well, Tifa thought ruefully.

She winced as a young man at the far end of the bar dropped a bottle he'd been trying to twirl. Amateurs.

But Loz had flinched as well; the crowd had him on edge. Tifa wondered how long Dio could keep up his patter - how long it would be before someone got close and started to prod at the Phoenix King and ask the wrong questions. The idea of coming to this gathering was quite possibly worse than that of coming to the Gold Saucer at all.

"Hey, you both look so glum people think something's wrong," Dio hissed, leaning toward them on Loz's right. "Get him a drink or something and _smile_, will you?"

Tifa bared her teeth in a gesture that could not easily be mistaken for a smile, but Loz spoke up quietly. "Don' drink."

Dio made a snorting sound and moved off to talk to someone else.

"You don't drink?" Tifa echoed, half in actual disbelief and half in desperation to ease the situation _somehow_.

Loz shrugged, barely glancing up at her. "Tastes awful. 'Sides, metabolism burns right through it."

"Huh." Somehow, she wasn't entirely surprised. "Well, they're gonna think it's weird if you don't have anything here. Gimme a minute."

She turned away from him for a few minutes, locating a glass and several bottles behind the bar. It wasn't the brightest thing to do, Tifa was certain, but the motions were comforting in their familiarity.

With laced fingers she stretched her arms, palms outward, and got to work. Two shots' worth from one bottle, one from another, dash of this, splash of that, pour over ice. The bottles whirled in her hands in a complex pattern, almost like juggling.

By the end of the sequence, she really was smiling slightly.

"Try that," she said, pushing the completed drink toward Loz. He reached out for it almost hesitantly.

"You're good," the young man that had dropped a bottle said, moving closer. "Where'd you train?"

_7th Heaven, Midgar Slums, Sector Seven - back when it existed..._ "Mideel."

"Mideel?" Another of the bartenders asked. "Hey, do you know Garibo-"

"It was a long time ago." Tifa cut the girl off, the smile disappearing already.

"S'good," Loz mumbled, glancing up at her with a little surprise as he took a few sips.

Tifa shrugged. Great, now she was the center of attention; that was marginally better than Loz being the center, but she couldn't deal with it much better. "I'll be right back," she mumbled, keeping her eyes down but for a pleading glance to Dio as she made a beeline for the near-empty balcony.

She took a few deep breaths as soon as she was alone. There were a few others on the balcony, but they were at the far end, and she could see Loz from here, so it'd be safe, right?

She looked up at the clear, starry sky for a moment, but had to close her eyes. She remembered sitting on the water tower in Nibelheim with Cloud, looking at the thousands of stars overhead, and wishing on every single one. She'd dragged a promise out of Cloud, that he'd come rescue her when she needed to be rescued.

That had all turned out rather well, now, hadn't it.

She took a few more deep breaths and drew the PHS from her pocket, checking for signal. It seemed to have one now. Good, at least something was going right.

She flicked the device open and dialed Vincent's number. It had taken some convincing to get him to carry a PHS, but they were rather necessary at this point.

She heard a click on the third ring and whispered quickly, voice low, "Vincent?"

"Tifa," Vincent's deep voice responded with uncharacteristic speed, her name escaping as a sigh. "You survived. Where are you?"

It wasn't like him to state the obvious like that. It dawned on her that he really must have been worried. "We're at the Gold Saucer."

"We?" There was silence for another moment. "He's with you."

She sifted uncomfortably, her eyes on the metal panels that composed the floor of the balcony. "I... I was going to just kill him," she murmured, almost to herself. "But... but the voice in my head, the one that sounds like Cloud... it told me to keep him alive. Vincent, I really think I'm..."

She swallowed hard. _I'm losing it. I can't do this._

The silence went on for longer this time. "You have to listen to that voice," Vincent said softly. And then, more strongly, "We'll come for you."

"No," Tifa said quickly, though her throat felt painfully tight. "No, we're going to leave on foot. Tomorrow, if at all possible. Meet us in Costa del Sol?"

"Are you certain?"

There was a sudden sound from the bar, and Tifa turned quickly, realizing with horror that she'd forgotten to pay attention to Loz. He was standing and facing the rest of the room, his chair knocked over, and there was someone lying at his feet. He stepped over the person, and she couldn't tell if the red on the victim's body was his own blood or leavings from Loz's still-damp cloak.

"Gotta go," she said quickly, and closed the PHS and shoved it back into her pocket as she moved forward. The weakness of a moment before was gone, buried again, her eyes cold and harsh and resolute. "Hey!"

And then someone reached out as though to touch Loz's shoulder, and he caught the hand and pushed it backward with a sudden snap, and there was nothing she could do. People were moving quickly now, some toward the person on the floor, some toward the howling man bending with the twist of his arm still driven by Loz's hand. Tifa recognized Loz's shift in stance, the way his eyes darted about - he could see nothing but targets. Whatever the first victim had said or done, he'd brought out that aspect in Loz that simply wanted to kill, all reason left behind.

It was the first shift in the Arena all over again, all at once. Two others tried to grab Loz's arms, and they were down before Tifa could cross the distance - one flung into the crowd and one kicked into a table. The throng of people were yelling and murmuring - not as terrified as they should be yet, because some fighters just berserked now and then. Some were surging toward the doors and others were taking fighting stances and approaching. Those advancing were far from weak - Dio's personal guard, other guards, and Dio himself - but she was certain that they wouldn't be enough to subdue Loz on their own.

So Tifa rushed at him.

He heard her footsteps and turned toward her, his eyes strangely blank but his grin manic. He brought his left fist around and into a swift uppercut just as she reached him.

She stopped short on her toes and bent backward, head tilted back, and she felt the movement of air in his fist's wake as it skimmed up past her without contacting. She didn't bother to try to correct her balance, only bent back further, flipping backward and lashing out at him with both feet.

One booted foot caught his chin and with a grunt, he stumbled back a step, bumping into a barstool. In the next instant he'd whipped the stool around in front of himself, throwing it at her.

Tifa swatted the stool aside; the dry wood cracked and fell apart before it hit the floor. The move cost her a moment's attention and Loz dodged into her defenses, throwing another punch. She gave ground and blocked several more strikes before she found her opening.

Her hand shot out and struck his forehead flat-palmed. "Sleep!"

The spell activated. She expected him to topple to the floor...

But Loz only brought his fist around and caught her a vicious blow to the side, then another to her head that set her ears to ringing - and then he grabbed her up and threw her into the shelves of bottles lining the wall behind the bar.

She tumbled to the floor in a rain of broken glass shelving and liquor bottles, momentarily stunned. She managed to open her eyes and focus on the floor in front of her, but it seemed to sway like the deck of a ship. She had to get up. She had to _move_. He was sure to be coming for her...

Only he wasn't.

Tifa groggily peeked over the bar, clinging to the edge for support. No wonder Loz hadn't come after her yet - Dio himself was facing off against him, the two circling each other. She watched them exchange a few blows, dance again, and then rush at each other, grappling.

The Sleepel hadn't taken, and it had been at point-blank range. That wasn't actually possible without a counter already in effect, but Loz had no Materia or items that could do that, she'd made sure of it.

...Except for when he was in the Battle Arena when she hadn't been there, or in the staging area without her... and they'd given him the cloak before...

Loz caught hold of Dio's waist and lifted and bent backward, driving the larger man into the floor head-first before righting himself and spinning to deliver a killing stomp.

Tifa stopped thinking. She grabbed up two of the heavier bottles from the ones that hadn't broken and vaulted over the bar. If she couldn't hit him with a Sleep spell, she'd have to do this the old fashioned way.

One of Dio's guards reached Loz first, barreling into him full-tilt. The two of them stumbled off; Loz swept the man aside like a rag-doll, only to have two others join in. He slammed them together, flipped forward to rid himself of a third man that had latched onto his neck from behind, and was knocked aside again by another.

Nobody was using a single spell against him. They _knew_. Dio had let them all know except for _her_. They'd given him a Barrier Materia or something, and he'd _used_ it, cast Reflect on himself. What had they expected?

If she hadn't been wearing a Headband wrapped around her wrist, the Sleepel probably would've put her right down.

She moved in, attacking and using the bottles as small clubs. He blocked the first four blows, but she was driving him back...

He suddenly whirled and ran for the wall, took a few clanging steps up the vertical surface, and flipped over her head. She felt his hands catch her shoulders - and the room spun as she was lifted and flung backward over _his_ head, toward the balcony.

She righted herself in the air and landed in a crouch, skidding backward before running straight at him again; he'd landed standing with his back to her and was beginning to turn. She could just see his eye shrouded in red-gelled swept-forward hair as he moved to look over his shoulder at her, and she could tell that he was still grinning.

She couldn't let up. She couldn't give him time to turn -

- So she threw one of the bottles as hard as she could.

The green glass bottle spun through the air end-over-end cracked into the back of his head. The bottle didn't break until it hit the floor.

She saw him jolt with the impact and halted herself. For a moment he simply stood, head turned a little more away so that she couldn't see his face, one hand rising to reach for his head.

Then he fell to his knees, and then flopped forward face-down on the floor, unconscious.

Tifa let the other bottle slip from her hand, shaking a little even as she straightened. She swallowed once before managing to speak. "All right, who the hell give him Materia?!" She shouted to the room at large, turning to glare. Her empty hands formed fists.

"He won it," Dio said simply, watching her from where he sat at a table, surrounded by guards. As soon as she'd stepped in he'd gotten out of range and had simply watched. "What did _you_ give him?"

It took her half a slack-jawed second to realize what he meant. "Oh for crying out loud, it was just fruit juice!" She stormed toward Dio, not even sure what she was going to do to him, if anything. This was insane. Dio was insane. She had what she'd come for and it was beyond time to leave. "I want a chocobo to carry him, and one for supplies, and we're leaving right now." Her voice was low, meant for Dio, but sharp.

She couldn't immobilize him with magic any more - couldn't even strip that Materia out of him while he was using it. She'd have to bind him up physically again and figure out how to control him better later...

"I can't let you do that." Dio stood, an attending medic - when had he summoned them? - having cast Cure on him. "Tomorrow, after he's completed the top-level battles, then you can go. But the fights are already scheduled now. It's just business."

Tifa stared at the hulking man, mouth hanging open in horror. He really_was_ gone. "Please, Dio, after what you've just seen -"

Dio only turned away, to one of his guards. "Lock her up. Release her when the top-tier fights are done tomorrow."

Tifa's eyes flew wide. "No, wait, Dio! You can't -"

One of the guards came nearer and raised his hand, casting something. She hoped it was a Sleep spell. If it was sleep she could fall and pretend and -

It wasn't Sleep. It was Petrify, and she had nothing to guard against it.

* * *

**Disclaimer:**The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes. 


	10. Fiend So Beautiful It'll Make You Kill

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Believe it or not, this whole story doesn't take place in the Gold Saucer, and it's finally getting to the point of moving on. XD I'm guessing it'll come out to maybe 30 chapters total? Maybe?

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Living Dead Girl" by Rob Zombie.

* * *

**(10: Another Fiend So Beautiful It'll Make You Kill)**

* * *

Dio's men didn't seem to think anything of dragging a Petrified Tifa to a small holding cell, but they at least had the grace to remove the spell once they'd locked her inside. She'd barely managed to curl on her side, however, before they cast Silence on her - she could keep her Materia, but she couldn't use it. What weapons she'd had, and the PHS, were taken away.

As soon as the guards' shadows were no longer visible through the small barred window, she got to her feet, inspecting her surroundings. It was nothing but a dark, grimy metal box, with smells coming from one corner that made her decide to avoid it. The ceiling of the small chamber was high; the walls were spaced too far apart to scale, and there was no visible reason to try. A quick study of the window in the door revealed the door to be several inches thick.

Tifa stood still, head down, taking deep breaths - and then she screamed, over and over again, kicking and pounding at the walls. The metal rang out, and her blows left a few dents, and rust and sand rained down on her, but other than that her attacks had no effect.

She thumped back against the back wall, breath hissing through gritted teeth, and slid down into a sitting position. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. She'd spent so long on the run, so long being good at not being caught - being caught, dying, would mean the death of the entire Planet. If she were caught, the Queen would eventually find out that she didn't have and didn't know where the Black Materia was; she'd come very close last time. As soon as the Queen knew that, she'd very quickly find out who did, because it was Rufus Shinra who insisted to her that Tifa had it in the first place. And then it would all be over.

She ground the heel of her palm to her brow and very softly began to cry. Bitter sobs shook her until she slid to one side, curling on the floor and outright weeping.

Dio was, above all else, a businessman. It would simply be good business to free Loz and turn her over to Jenova.

Part of her wished that the Silence spell would actually remove her voice instead of just her spell-casting ability, so that she wouldn't have to hear herself.

Eventually she dozed; she'd often found that it was the only defense her body had to feeling... like this. Failed. Empty. Hopeless. It didn't make the hurt leave, but it dulled it for a little while.

A slot at the bottom of the door opened and a tray of food and water was pushed inside. She roused enough to instinctively take the meal, even though it stuck in her throat. She was too used to not giving up and continuing to try even when she knew it was pointless. Vincent had drilled it into her when her own will had broken...

- Cloud's body fell from the tree overhead in the Northern Crater and landed facing away from her, and she couldn't see his face and she didn't want to see his face and the back of his head was in pieces raining down and there was so much blood and the giant Materia suspended in the tree with Sephiroth inside darkened and flashed like there was a thunderstorm inside breaking out and the WEAPONS began to move and she didn't even see where the Black Materia fell -

A guard came and removed the tray a while later, though the meal on it was still half uneaten. He looked through the window at the girl huddled on the floor, then cast Silence again, lest the spell wear off.

A strike of metal on metal jarred her awake. There were hushed voices at the door, and then a clunking sound - and as Tifa turned to look over her shoulder, the heavy door swung open.

"Tifa?"

She blinked several times, uncomprehending. "...Lia?"

"Come on, quick," she heard Zhai from just beyond the doorway. "I'll get her stuff." She heard retreating footsteps.

"What -"

"We're springing you, silly," Lia announced, stepping far enough into the cell to take hold of Tifa's arm and attempt to haul the taller woman to her feet. "Hurry up!"

Lia was shrouded in a tan hooded cloak, and she wore dull-colored but heavy clothing. They were traveling clothes. Tifa stumbled after the lithe girl, sure for a moment that she was dreaming. "How did you -"

The younger girl grinned. "Your pack was full of Materia and Zhai can use it," she chirped. "How come you had a second Seal Materia?"

"Loz had it," Tifa mumbled as she was pulled down a dark, door-lined hall to another room. There were guards lying on the floor. Some of them were snoring. "Hey, wait, my weapons -"

"Got 'em," Zhai said. He was dressed the same way that Lia was, minus the long cloak, and was standing in front of a bank of opened lockers with keys in hand. He pulled out her belt - several sheathed daggers dangling from it - and a few more stray blades to hand her, and the one piece of SOLDIER shoulder armor that she refused to give up. Cloud's armor.

- The tree overhead was falling apart and the WEAPONS were rising and Cid had the Highwind ready and waiting and Vincent and Red XIII were on either side of her trying to get her to go but she wouldn't leave Cloud hurt cold dead her fault all her fault -

She closed her eyes. In the end, Barret had come and simply carried Cloud's corpse, as it seemed that bringing it was the only way to get Tifa to move.

She took a moment to strap the armor and belt back on and tuck the spare blades into her clothing, then reached for the PHS still lying in the locker. It had been powered down, and she activated it again.

Vincent had called six times, but she'd no time to worry about it now. She shoved the PHS into a back pants pocket.

"Let's go," Lia said, heading for the door. "We got out our savings and got us some chocobos. One for pack and one for you and a big one for me and Zhai." She grinned. "They're ready for us down in the stables by the race course."

At Tifa's confused expression, Zhai added, "Well, we can't exactly stay here now, can we?"

Tifa bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "You were happy here and I came and -"

"We owe you a lot more than we ever owed Dio," Lia cut her off. "Anyway, there's always Junon or Mideel or the Floating City... lots of places I can still dance." She smiled broadly, but there was an edge of desperation to it.

Tifa nearly smiled - even if they believed the world was ending, they were still brave and still friends. She'd ruined what they had, but they chose her anyway...

But her smile died before it reached her lips. "Thank you," she murmured sincerely. "But I can't leave yet. Where's Loz?"

Zhai and Lia looked at each other. "He'd be in the Arena again by now," Zhai answered. "Dio bumped up the top-level battle group and has been promoting it like crazy all day."

She didn't like the way they looked at each other sadly, as though a plan had gone awry. She steeled herself. "Right. You go to the chocobos and I'll meet you there as soon as I'm through with him, all right?" _As soon as I get him on a leash again because damned if I'm leaving him here with all the damage he could do..._

"Here, use this," Lia said, draping her hooded cloak about Tifa's shoulders. On Lia it was full-length, but on Tifa it seemed shorter. "The guards in the Arena might not notice you this way."

It was apparent as soon as they were back amongst the crowded throughways that there was something going on in the Gold Saucer. People were rushing about tight-lipped, with quick movements and shouting at each other, many more with packs than was usual. And it was already after dark; she knew without asking that she'd lost nearly an entire day to being locked up. At least she felt well-rested.

Tifa didn't get to ask Zhai and Lia if they knew what was going on, or if they even noticed. She split from them and headed for the Battle Arena as quickly as possible.

Along the way, she passed the platform for the cable car from North Corel. The platform was crowded with people with packs, some of them shouting; the gears running the cables were straining, as though the car - out of sight - were overloaded.

It reminded her too much of the last night in Wutai, but it answered a question. The Gold Saucer was being abandoned.

She could only guess why. Loz's identity had probably been revealed, and his brothers would be on the way.

...So she was surprised, when she slipped into the still-thronging crowds of the Battle Arena, to see the Phoenix King beheading another victim with the man's own broadsword. The saffron cloak was torn off completely and scuffed to the side of the arena, but his hair was still colored as flame and swept forward - though if she knew where to look, she could see the color beginning to wear away. The crowd roared, the sound carrying out into the darkened desert; the dome over the Battle Arena was opened wide.

Something was still wrong. If it wasn't Loz, what was it?

"The Phoenix King reigns champion!" Dio's voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "All opposition has fallen to his might! Are there none left to challenge in these last moments? Defeat him and the title is yours - not to mention the prize!" There was a sound of jingling coins, and the crowd roared again; turning toward Dio's box seat, Tifa saw him dangling a large pouch near his microphone. "Will anyone else try to claim the last prize of the Gold Saucer?!"

Tifa frowned - what the hell was Dio talking about? - but then something caught her eye. Over Dio's shoulder, through the open dome, she could see the desert horizon, and there was something out there. Something that seemed to pulse with blue-white light...

She edged around the Arena until she came to stand near the open dome, and squinted. It wasn't that the light was pulsing, she realized; it was that there were helicopters circling something, their spotlights playing over it.

Something big, heading for the Gold Saucer...

Oh, shit. That was a WEAPON.

Her shoulders sagged. It was assumed that WEAPON attacks were inevitable - the things roved the Planet, and occasionally, some human habitation got in the way. One of the things seemed to have taken up residence in the desert, but it had never moved against the Gold Saucer until now. Why _now_...

She clamped her mouth shut and turned back toward the ring as Dio made a last call. Loz looked nearly disappointed that no one else was coming to fight, tapping his foot as two of the Arena staff carried the most recent corpse off the field.

Fine, she thought, one hand closing over the hilt of a dagger under her cloak. She'd end this quickly so that these insane people would_leave_. It was clear that those here were either fatalistic enough not to care about the impending attack, or simply assumed that they'd enough time to flee; she'd have to hasten things a bit.

...Only someone else gracefully leapt into the ring before she could get any closer. She gritted her teeth. Fine, one more fool to waste a few minutes; she'd be faster and jump in as soon as he was dead...

But while Loz fell into an eager fighting stance, the newcomer only stood still and straight, a long dagger in each hand and arms slightly extended to his sides. He was completely covered in a long black robe and a black scarf wrapped around his head, obscuring all but his eyes.

Something about the way he stood...

Tifa pushed her way through the crowd, her hood falling back, trying to reposition herself at the side of the arena so that she could get a look at the challenger's eyes. No, no, please no, please don't let it be -

She didn't get to see his eyes. He and Loz flew at each other, spun, and traded swift blows, every one of which was parried. Somehow Loz managed to keep from being cut in the slightest, and they danced away for a moment, then attacked each other again.

The blade-user stepped inside as Loz punched, back to Loz's chest, and locked arms around Loz's extended fist; Loz reached with his other hand in what would have been a killing move, to break the opponent's neck, but the other fighter kicked with one foot and tilted forward. Loz was unbalanced and flipped over the opponent's head and onto his back, breaking the arm-lock and rolling away before the blades stabbed down.

The audience screamed - few of the other opponents had done so well against the Phoenix King.

Tifa knew why, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She pulled the hood back over her head as they whirled close, then away again. Every motion, every blow that failed to do damage, only made her more certain of the newcomer's identity. There was no longer any question.

She had to do something. Nobody here realized what was going on, and it would get them all killed if she didn't do something.

Tifa jumped up to the top of the waist-high wall surrounding the ring, scaled the high chain-link fence above that - several of the people around her yelled and grabbed at her cloak, but she pulled free - and dropped down into the ring. Her motion caught Loz's eye and he glanced toward her, grinning wider; his opponent stopped a blow that would've caught Loz across the face due to his inattention. And then both of them were coming toward her...

In his box, Dio stood up, snarling loud enough that she could hear him without the loudspeaker. "Get her out of there!"

The newcomer, swifter than Loz, reached her first and slashed at her. She dodged to the side and spun to pass behind him, grabbing at the scarf around his head and pulling.

For a split second, she was dodging away, her arm extended upward with the scarf free and rising in the air like a curtain. Silver hair flew free of the binding; the blade-user turned, his cold smile revealed, with delight in his blue-green eyes. The blades were coming for her side and she was wide open and there was nothing she could do.

And then Loz barreled into her, knocking her back into the wall of the arena - unintentionally away from the daggers - and people were finally making the sounds that Tifa had thought they should be all along.

They were screaming in terror. The crowd was suddenly stumbling all over themselves trying to flee the Battle Arena.

Loz grabbed her by the strap of Cloud's shoulder armor and flung her back toward the center of the ring like a rag doll. She tumbled into a graceless heap, and it took her a moment to get her bearings - but then a booted foot landed heavily on her chest. She gasped, air pressed from her lungs, legs scrabbling at the dirt floor for purchase as she tried to get a grip on the boot and lift it.

"Have you finished playing with your pretty pet?" Yazoo purred, unhurriedly moving to stand next to his brother.

Loz grinned again, panting slightly as he looked up at Yazoo. "Not yet."

* * *

**Disclaimer:**The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes. 


	11. Will My Eyes Be Closed or Open

Author's note: Disclaimer found below

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Thank you, everyone who's reviewed! I really mean it. I'm sorry that this chapter took so long - had some RL events to work on instead for a while. But hopefully things are settled now and I can keep writing regularly again. :-)

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Hyperballad" by Bjork. The lyric is in reference to the singer imagining what would happen if she threw herself from a cliff.

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**(11: When It Lands Will My Eyes be Closed or Open)**

* * *

The boot on Tifa's chest lifted, and for a brief moment as she gasped for breath, she had a clear view of the night sky above the arena. There were airships drifting above the Gold Saucer, illuminated from below. Dozens of airships...

One of them looked familiar, but that shouldn't be...

Loz lifted her up again, holding her aloft by her neck. Tifa tried not to struggle - it only hurt more that way. Still, she couldn't quite keep herself from reaching and trying to pry at his hand. He smiled, his hand twitching, and she tried to stop - the last thing she needed right now was for him to decide to squeeze.

"You could've contacted us. Mother was worried," Yazoo chided as he unhurriedly bent to pick up the scarf and dust it off.

Suddenly, Loz wasn't paying attention to her at all any more, even though he still held her off the ground. "M'sorry," he quickly mumbled, face twisting in concern. "I was trying to wait for a good time -"

"Like you couldn't have forced your way." Yazoo straightened and regarded his brother skeptically for a moment before his expression softened. "I know how much you've wanted to play like this, but Mother said no. You disobeyed Her by taking advantage of your situation."

Loz's hand twitched again, and this time he lowered his arm, setting Tifa down without letting go. "Is Mother mad at me?"

It was the first time that Tifa had seen him quite so uncertain, and it was more than a little frightening to think of what could disturb _him_.

"Only worried," Yazoo murmured, scarf tossed over one shoulder. His lips formed an almost serene smile as he reached out and laid a hand against Loz's cheek. "Come now. There's a WEAPON on the way -"

Loz tilted his head, expression clearing. "Which one?"

The smile and soft tones fell away. "It doesn't matter. Don't even think about it."

"I still say if all three of us -"

"_No_, Loz." The sharp words left no room for argument. "Now, if you'll bring your toy along, there's a helicopter waiting for us -"

"Hey, Loz!"

Loz turned, then carelessly released Tifa's neck and moved away; she fell to her knees, rubbing at her throat and coughing. Someone was entering through the Arena entrance. "Kadaj!"

The youngest brother smiled in joy the way any teenager would... which was completely incongruous with the image he presented. He had his sword at the neck of a feebly struggling hostage, another docile figure following. In his right hand, he held a slim dark metal circlet with a red Materia set into it - Loz's crown, that matched the ones his brothers wore.

Lia. Kadaj had a hold of Lia, and Zhai was following.

Oh, god.

"Found your signal," Kadaj said, tossing the crown to Loz. "Why'd you let them take your stuff? There's a chocobo-full of it down in the stables."

Loz caught the crown, grinning and jamming it down over still-gelled hair. "Not much choice at the time," he called back cheerfully.

"Please don't hurt them," Tifa exclaimed. She had nothing left but begging, and she hated it. "Please, they didn't do anything -"

She cut herself off abruptly as Kadaj jerked the double blade of his sword against Lia's throat; the girl whimpered and Zhai made a small, terrified sound. Loz glanced down at her, lips parted slightly.

"Who, these two?" Kadaj asked. "You have nothing to bargain for their lives with..." He pressed down on the blades, cutting into Lia's skin just the tiniest bit. "...Do you?" His smile was deadly.

Of course, there was the location of the Black Materia to bargain with. She could always make something up. Tifa opened her mouth to speak, a thousand remote locations buzzing in her head. She'd be killed when they found that she was lying, but maybe she could buy time...

Yazoo was glancing about the Arena, which was - apart from them - devoid of people at this point. Even Dio had made himself scarce. "We should leave now."

"I guess," Loz shrugged, reaching down to grab Tifa's upper arm and haul her to her feet.

The entrances of the Arena were to either side, with Dio's box on the outside edge of the platform. The supports connecting the platform to the central pillar were on the far side of the Arena from the box.

As she was pulled up, Tifa glanced away from Lia and Zhai, ashamed - she saw the tears on Lia's cheeks and there was nothing she could do. Her gaze fell on the ground near Dio's box, and then she raised her head -

The WEAPON was gone. She couldn't see it out in the desert any more. Either it had turned away, changed course, or it had increased speed and -

The air was suddenly filled with screams of more than metal, and all heads turned to see. A residential platform - the one with the marketplace, to the left and mounted higher up from their position - suddenly moved. Shuddered. Bent.

It tilted in a way it definitely wasn't supposed to, the illumination from floodlights below seeming to glow brighter as the surfaces they reflected upon changed. Metal groaned and cables snapped and debris rained down and the lights in the buildings on the platform became visible and then flickered and Tifa swore she could see people falling.

And then it felt as though the entire Gold Saucer swayed, and something gave, and suddenly the platform's lights blinked out and it was falling. It seemed to move so slowly...

She couldn't make a sound. It was so much like the Midgar Sector 7 plate falling...

She tried to jerk her arm out of Loz's grasp and run, but the moment she tugged, he whirled on her, glaring.

She finally managed to make her voice work again. "We have to get out of here!" She yelled, pausing only a horrified beat before amending, "You have to!" as she turned to Kadaj again. "Let them go, they'll only slow you down!"

Kadaj's smile broadened, cruel eyes on Tifa alone. She saw his arm tense. He was going to cut Lia's throat.

Tifa drew breath to scream for him to stop.

The entire Battle Arena platform suddenly jolted as something massive struck it. Zhai fell to his knees; in keeping his balance, Kadaj swung his sword away from Lia's throat.

The platform stabilized again, and there was no sense in waiting for another strike. Kadaj hurled Lia to the ground and set off toward an exit at a brisk walk. "Hurry up," he snapped to his brothers.

Tifa looked back over her shoulder as Loz dragged her out, and glimpsed Lia and Zhai huddled together in the ring, before Yazoo stepped behind her and favored her with an icy smile. She looked away, chest aching in panic.

Kadaj continued his disturbingly unhurried pace to the central core. He seemed to be disappointed that the crowds of people trying to flee - there were still so many - wouldn't stand in his way so that he could cut them down. The entire structure rocked again as they climbed a stairwell; Kadaj merely swayed with the motion, hand resting lightly on the guardrail, but Tifa thumped heavily against Loz before falling forward. Unfortunately, the motion wasn't enough to break his grip.

They spilled out onto a high wind-scoured platform, bare at this point but for one large Shinra helicopter. The sky was full of aircraft, nearly all rising and moving away from the Gold Saucer, like a dying flower's seeds caught in the wind. Beyond the lights that edged the platform, Tifa could see only darkness...

A spotlight caught something red and moving; the beam widened so that more of the thing was visible. Ruby WEAPON. The helicopter-mounted spotlight quickly passed over and away before the slow-moving giant could swipe it out of the sky.

It was so close -

There was movement in the WEAPON's direction, and the Gold Saucer shook again.

Kadaj was opening the Shinra helicopter. Yazoo stepped around from behind Tifa and Loz, moving swiftly to the cockpit, where there seemed to be a pilot already...

...A red-headed pilot sitting stock still. She saw Yazoo cast some spell, and the pilot suddenly pitched forward with a shriek. It was Reno, the Turk - he'd been left Petrified at the controls.

Reno immediately began swearing as fast as he could speak. "What the fuck are you bastards _thinking_? There's a motherfucking WEAPON right over -"

Yazoo reached forward without warning and cuffed Reno across the face. "Fly," he commanded.

Reno's head whipped around as though he were about to protest - but then he noticed Tifa. For a moment his expression flickered with some emotion other than anger, before he turned and began to power up the aircraft without further complaint.

Loz had her up to the open side of the helicopter and there was nothing Tifa could do about it. Kadaj reached forward to take her arm and haul her in.

Another stream of obscenities from Reno barely had time to start before there was a horrible jolt and the platform heaved up at an angle. Suddenly unbalanced, Tifa fell back against Loz - and realized her opportunity.

As the platform pitched to one side, she brought her feet up against the helicopter and shoved as hard as she could. Loz lost his grip on the edge of the doorway and shouted, and they both tumbled backward, sliding on the tilted grating. Between the wind and groaning metal and the propellers beginning to spin, the noise was too great for any words to be heard.

The struts of the helicopter scraped and sparked as the vehicle began to slide toward them - but it suddenly lifted, tilting wildly and barely avoiding debris with a dangerous swerve. Tifa saw Kadaj at the open side, shouting something and reaching out, features twisted in anger and desperation. She couldn't see Yazoo or Reno.

She'd no doubt that Reno was going to die for this. Several times, given that Yazoo liked to use Phoenix Down to ill effect. But he'd given her the best chance she was going to get.

The helicopter careened away, and the platform tilted again - this time not just back to the horizontal, but bending further. Tifa managed to get enough traction to stop sliding for a moment, only to see that Loz already had done the same. He was watching the helicopter, but didn't seem to be nearly as upset as Kadaj was.

The aircraft swung close again, but the platform was turning more vertical, and Tifa thought she heard Kadaj's roar as the helicopter veered away again. They'd have to leave; there was nothing else that Loz's brothers could do unless they left the helicopter, and if they did that, they'd be in as much danger from the WEAPON as everyone else.

Tifa glanced down toward the edge of the platform, gripping with both hands, her hair and borrowed cloak whipping about her in the wind. As floodlights tilted, the red carapace of the Ruby WEAPON was coming into view...

Her heart was pounding, but something in her mind had already shut down. If she stopped to think, it would all be over. The WEAPON was massive and terrifying and she'd lose her strength if she waited long enough to take a good look at it. Her only function right now was to survive.

She looked back toward the upper edge of the platform, toward the door to the passage that lead back to the central column. She began to climb.

Loz was staring at the WEAPON, hanging onto a broken edge in the metal with one hand. (Had he punched that hole into the platform? Tifa didn't remember there being one before.) She didn't stop as she passed him; she was out of reach and he simply wasn't her problem at this point. She clung to the metal grating as best she could and hauled herself toward the door.

There were crates sliding, then tumbling, down the platform toward the edge. The WEAPON roared, and the entire structure seemed to reverberate with the cry. Some support beneath the platform snapped and the surface gave a violent jolt and fell entirely vertical. Tifa lost her grip with one hand, swinging loose and looking down.

Loz was right next to and not quite even with her, hanging on with both hands now, within reach. He raised his head to look at her.

His eyes were clear, free of the battle-madness she'd expected. He wasn't going after the WEAPON. She hadn't expected him to show so much common sense.

She considered kicking at him. It might send both of them to their deaths, but... wouldn't that be worth it?

_No._

"Shut up, Cloud," she hissed at herself. She didn't care that Vincent had told her to listen to the voice in her head. Like she should really be listening to him of all people -

Ruby WEAPON moved, and the Gold Saucer itself swayed with the impact, central core and all. The platform twisted.

Tifa reached out, swiped the circlet from Loz's head, and flung it down into the WEAPON's face. No hidden tracking devices this time. Loz snarled up at her, voice still lost in the destruction, but she only pointed up toward the door.

Loz reached the door ahead of her - he _was_ punching his own holes to climb, and without his enhancer Materia, his knuckles were raw and bleeding with the effort. Tifa didn't care; the holes he left made it easier for her to climb too.

The passage itself was bending - the door itself hung open, the doorway facing downward - but there was a railing to cling to and crawl along inside.

As soon as the creaking passage was at enough of an angle to permit standing, Loz reached down and grabbed Tifa by the arm, dragging her to her feet and shouting. "What the hell did you do that for!"

She was helpless in his grip and tensed, expecting to be cast away again at any moment - but he only flung her further down the tunnel, toward the central core. "We could've been out of here or all gone after the WEAPON together, but no, you had to mess it up -"

Tifa picked herself up, glaring right back and standing her ground. She was just trying to survive, and here was her worst enemy - well, one of them - whining at her like a little kid. "You want to take on the damned WEAPON, go ahead! Have fun!" She'd advanced on him without really meaning to, and shoved at him for emphasis.

He was hanging onto the railing and only stumbled back a step. "I can't do it _myself_!" he snapped back. "Why'd you have to separate us again? And you threw my crown - how are my brothers going to find us now!"

Whereas Tifa had been functioning purely out of desperation for nearly the past hour, she suddenly found herself being overtaken by rage. "That was the _point_!" Her hands clenched into fists and she snarled in his face. "You fucking moron, can't you get it through your skull that -"

The Gold Saucer shook with another massive impact, and both of them lost balance and dropped to the floor. Tifa rapidly reached the conclusion that now was _not_ the time to try to get Loz to understand their relationship.

She ran, and he followed, and she didn't care. There were still people fleeing the city and it was far too much like the last night in Wutai - too much smoke and too many screams and everything falling apart.

There was no time. The next platform was another landing area, deserted now but for tumbled crates and a fuel line snapped and leaking. Not a good place to be. The platform after that was nearly the same, and Tifa nearly turned away again before she glimpsed something behind some crates - a tiny bug-like helicopter, barely big enough for two. It didn't even have doors, just propellers and a metal framework and an open-sided dome to act as a windshield.

It couldn't be _that_ difficult to make it work, could it? How different could it be from what she knew of airships already?

She crawled in and stared at the controls. A lot different.

She gave a start as Loz climbed in through the other side of the dome - for a blissful moment, she'd managed to forget about him. But to her surprise, he reached up to the control panel and began to flick switches, and the helicopter began to power up.

He noticed her staring at him and paused. "What?"

"Nothing," she snapped, turning away again.

The WEAPON struck again and this time the core tilted and did not right itself. Metal gave way, bolts shearing and popping; the floor bucked and began to tilt. The small helicopter jumped free, rising vertically.

...But the sky was still filled with airships, and the lights from the Gold Saucer - the ones that were left - were moving wildly, only momentarily illuminating craft that were otherwise dark in a dark sky.

Tifa looked down, knuckles white as she gripped the edges of the dome. The entire Gold Saucer flickered and swayed, glimpses of red carapace flashing through smoke and darkness as the Ruby WEAPON battered at the city.

And then, with a metal groan audible over the helicopter's workings and the wind that tore at her, the city began to tilt to one side and didn't stop -

All she could think of were Lia and Zhai.

Loz made a hissing sound and the helicopter swerved, then swerved again, threading between nearly invisible airships, their running lights matching the stars in the sky. There were so many -

There. Tifa was _sure_ that she saw the Highwind that time. But it shouldn't be here...

Just as they were descending - maybe the way would be more clear, lower down - the craft jolted and spun uncontrolled for a long moment. Tifa couldn't even cry out, only closed her eyes; Loz swore under his breath, bloodied hands never leaving the controls. They'd struck something, and they were dropping out of the sky, but there was nothing but disorienting black surrounding them - no sense of up or down or of how close the ground was.

Tifa desperately wished for a Phoenix Down and readied a Cure spell.

But the expected impact didn't come, and the swerving evened out a bit, and her eyes slowly adjusted. She could now see by moonlight that they were skimming low over the desert.

The Gold Saucer was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	12. The Shadows Grow Longer

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Beauty Never Fades" by Junkie XL, available on the _Animatrix_ soundtrack.

* * *

**(12: Every Step I Take, the Shadows Grow Longer)**

* * *

For a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, Tifa glanced over her surroundings, before finally looking at Loz. She'd let him have control of where they were going, which meant that she was now _his_ prisoner again. She could've just run and not tried to escape the Gold Saucer this way, or she could've pushed him out and muddled through flying the aircraft on her own, or she could've done any number of things - but no, she'd effectively handed herself over to him.

She wondered if she could safely throw herself out the side of the helicopter. Or at least safely enough that she'd be able to cast Cure on herself before Loz rounded on her.

The light from the control panel was low enough that she could see his slit-pupiled eyes glowing with the memory of Mako. The Princes had never had their own Mako treatments, unless Jenova was more cruel to her sons than anyone suspected, but the Princes' eyes glowed as though they had. It was most likely because they were shards of Sephiroth's living memory - he'd survived more Mako than just about anyone. So their eyes glowed. Just like Sephiroth's. Just like Cloud's had, once he'd become a SOLDIER...

The realization struck Tifa that Loz might well have been able to see where they were going the entire time, while she'd been blinded in the dark. No wonder he hadn't turned on the helicopter's exterior lights.

She bit her lip. Long ago, she'd dreamed of a knight to rescue her when she was in trouble, had extracted a promise from Cloud... but this was most definitely _nothing_ like she'd imagined. She looked away again, unable to keep from laughing at herself - a bitter, mad little sound.

"What?" Loz asked again, gaze flicking toward her for a moment.

She wasn't about to let him know what she was really thinking. "You. Flying a helicopter."

He shrugged. "We all can. Sephiroth knew." He smirked a little. "I'm best, though."

Well, that explained that. "Why'd your brothers have the Turk piloting for them, then?"

"Dunno." Loz shrugged again. "Yazoo likes to order him around and stuff."

Figured. Tifa looked away as she mentally sorted through her Materia. She didn't have anything she could use on Loz before they landed, and after that...

"So," Loz said conversationally, still smirking, "What are you going to do to repay me for saving you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Kill you quickly instead of slowly?"

"Aw, don't you want me any more?" he asked, grinning wider. "As your hostage, I mean."

Of _course_ that's what he meant. Folding her arms, she wondered if she could kill him without lifting a finger, purely by hating him.

It suddenly struck her that he still thought that she was the one in control. She didn't dare voice her surprise, lest she let him know how easily the situation could change in his favor, but he'd expect her to respond...

"I'll kill you eventually whether you're my hostage or not," she pointed out as though the statement were an obvious fact.

He laughed, and Tifa couldn't help but get the feeling that he wasn't quite taking her seriously.

* * *

As it turned out, there really had been little that Loz could do to escape, once he'd begun to fly them away from the Gold Saucer. The helicopter had been abandoned during refueling and had only had a half tank of fuel, which wouldn't get them too far. By the time the sun began to rise, behind them and off to the right, they had to set down on a flat expanse of baked earth between dunes.

Unless Loz had changed direction in flight - which he claimed he hadn't, and would have been stupid to lie about - they had no choice but to continue to head northwest. Without supplies, their only option was to get out of the desert as soon as possible. Heading northwest should bring them to the grasslands at the foot of the mountains, and hopefully to water.

...And would keep them well clear of North Corel, where a lot of survivors from the Gold Saucer would undoubtedly be congregating. The only thing that left Tifa nervous was that Loz's family was perfectly capable of figuring out which way they'd likely go. His brothers would probably search even if they thought that she and Loz had died, and it had been Loz that had chosen their heading in the first place. She could be walking right into their hands.

Tifa gritted her teeth. She'd nearly despaired in the helicopter, but rallied as soon as she'd realized that Loz still thought she had the upper hand. ...Unless he was faking purely to make her easier to deal with, and she _was_ walking into a trap. But she couldn't afford to believe that. She couldn't give up, ever. Vincent had drilled that into her and she had to keep believing...

The battery of the PHS she'd acquired in the Gold Saucer had given out, and she'd nowhere to charge it. Calling Vincent for rescue wasn't an option.

There was nothing of use in the helicopter, and nothing to do but leave it where it sat and walk away. They set out, following their heading in as straight a line as they could.

By the middle of the first day, Tifa had to use Cure spells on them both to keep them going. Living on spells was a bad idea; it didn't last. You had to cast the spells closer together the more you did it, and you'd run out of the energy to cast before long. But there was no choice.

Another spell a few hours later, and another at sunset...

They didn't stop when night fell. There was no point; with no supplies whatsoever, there was no way for them to even collect dew to try to drink. It would just be wasted time that they'd have to heal again after anyway, lest they be too weak to move on.

Tifa was casting a few hours apart by midday the next day, and the thirst was no longer easing after each spell. She didn't even realize that she'd run out of energy until she tried to cast and failed.

She fell to her knees, panting. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, her eyes burning dry, and there was nothing she could do.

Loz dropped to the rocky sand next to her, turning so as to sit facing her, and held out his hand. He was still wearing nothing but boots, pants, and a mess of decaying, sandy hair gel, and his skin was going red faster than the Cure spells could heal it, but at least he wasn't overheating from his clothes this time.

The corner of Tifa's mouth twitched, causing her to wince - her own face wasn't faring much better for sunburn, in spite of the desert cloak that Lia had given her.

She glanced at his hand, then slowly drew the Heal Materia out of her arm. She only hesitated a moment before handing it to him. She fully expected to never get the Materia back, but there wasn't anything else she could do if they were to survive.

The Cure spell that washed over her was stronger than what she'd been casting, and she didn't even realize for a moment, her body desperate for the transient relief. Still, she spoke as soon as she found that she could swallow again. "Not so much," she told him. "You'll wear yourself out before we're out of here."

It was the most that either of them had said since leaving the helicopter, and she wasn't sure if she liked Loz being quiet after all.

She'd half expected him to cast Cure on himself and walk away, but only half. And she hated herself for trusting him at all.

* * *

The sun had lifted free of the horizon on the third day before the first hints of green appeared in the landscape. They finally found water a few hours later.

The pond was murky, more a marsh than anything else, full of reeds and algae where it was clear enough to not simply be mud. It wasn't easy to extract handfuls of water clear enough to drink; Loz was too hasty at first and accidentally drank a handful of algae. But at least the fact that plants grew there gave hope that the water was not poisonous.

The plants seemed a little sickly, yellowish instead of the vibrant green that they would have once been. The pale scent of ash still tinged the air. The world was still recovering from the Long Winter...

The sun was setting, burning the sky crimson, when the cracked earth underfoot became patched with grass. The mountains had been looming closer and the spots of reedy marsh had been growing more frequent, until finally, the ground broke out in flowing water. It seemed that a stream tumbled down from the mountains and sank into the earth at the edge of the desert.

"We'll follow it," Tifa said, having finally drunk her fill of clear, algae-free water. She looked off toward the mountains as the last of the light faded. "It's not big, but the way it cuts through the mountains should cross a road to Costa del Sol."

"That where we're going," Loz mumbled, lying on his stomach and greedily drinking without hands. "First the Gold Saucer and now Costa del Sol? You tryin' to show me a good time or what?"

Tifa casually picked a reed from the water's edge and brought it down sharply across Loz's back, and was rewarded with a pained yelp. "It'll be storm season by the time we get there. You can spend all the time on the beach you want."

Loz muttered something under his breath and sat up on his knees, face twisted in anger. Nonetheless, he unobtrusively angled himself and tried to keep his burned back out of range of the makeshift whip.

Still brandishing the reed, Tifa looked away from him, studying the landscape. There. "We need to rest," she announced, gesturing toward an short rise a little ways away. "Base of that's a little sheltered. Go lie down."

He glared and scowled, but she tapped the reed against her hand, and he obeyed. One Sleepel later - she still had enough energy for that, at least - Tifa lay down a little further along the rise, exhaustion washing over her. Her stomach ached with hunger, but at least here there was water, and there might be game to catch or fish...

Her mind wandered off into sleep, accompanied by the nagging suspicion that she'd forgotten something important.

* * *

Tifa found herself sitting in darkness. Sensation slowly appeared - she sat on packed earth, and there was something at her back, and the air was clean - the ubiquitous scent of ash was missing. Gradually the darkness lifted. She was sitting against a white picket fence; overhead, a metal archway spanned the dirt road. She was in Nibelheim - home - waiting at the gate. There had been a lot of monsters and Shinra had sent a couple of SOLDIERs First Class to come investigate, and she was waiting and hoping that one would be Cloud...

There was someone coming up the road. She heard a truck stop, heard footsteps, saw a flash of silver hair -

She leapt up and ran, the darkness closing in around her again until she ran without light or sound or the feel of her feet striking earth. And she kept running, her hands over her eyes -

And then there were hands on hers, prying away, large enough to catch both wrists in one hand and hold her arms above her head. There was weight on her, pinning her down; her eyes snapped open and found only black surrounding her again. Disoriented, she opened her mouth to cry out, only to find another hand quickly clamped over it.

She glimpsed the glow of Loz's eyes close to hers, and confusion gave way to panic. Her feet scrabbled for purchase, but his body over hers held her down. She made a frustrated sound and bit at his hand as hard as she could.

He made a sound something like a growl in the back of his throat and shoved down, pressing her head into the ground. Tifa fell still with the pain of it. The sound of her breath hissing over his hand - nearly covering her nose as well - was all she could hear.

"Cut it out," he whispered low, close to her ear. The pressure of his hand eased.

It took a few moments for her breathing to slow, but when it did, he cautiously lifted his hand away. She was trembling, cursing herself for her weakness - she should be fighting until he'd crushed the breath out of her, hopeless as it was. She realized that he'd simply blocked her sleep spell again; over the past few days of not sleeping at all, she'd forgotten about the Materia he'd won.

But before she could speak, he was whispering again. "We're not alone."

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	13. This Is Where Your Sanity Gives In

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Paralyzed" by the Cardigans.

Thanks so much to everyone who's left reviews! I'm hoping to actually get to respond to some of you soon. I'm very sorry to take so long to update; lots of RL going on. Thank you for reading!

* * *

**(13: This Is Where Your Sanity Gives In)**

* * *

"We're not alone."

Tifa lay still as the words sunk in and she realized that she wasn't actually being attacked. She focused on his eyes in the dark - they seemed to become brighter as her vision adjusted. "What?" she panted, her voice just as low.

Loz eased up further, apparently satisfied that she wasn't going to scream and attract attention. "There's something upstream a bit," he muttered. "Big. I heard it."

Something big enough that Loz wasn't sure he could handle it alone? Great. She tried to run through what she knew of the creatures in this area of the world, trying to guess what it might be. Not that it mattered; captured creatures had been released far from home in the past few years, and others had simply wandered beyond their former bounds. "Marlboro maybe?" She breathed, trying to decide what spells to use.

"Dunno." Loz wasn't moving; one hand still had both of hers by the wrist, the hand that had covered her mouth curled at her collar bone. She couldn't tell exactly what he was looking at, but he was staring at her, the urgency of having a monster to deal with fading rapidly.

Tifa scowled; his glowing eyes could probably pick up the expression in the dark. "Loz."

"Huh?"

"Get off me."

He blinked, then released her, shifting until he was crouched next to her instead of over her. She took a deeper breath, now that she could.

Of course, the fact that he'd actually obeyed her only made the point of how serious he was; something was out there and he didn't know what it was, and that made him... wary. It struck Tifa that he trusted her to help. _He_ trusted _her_.

Her lips twitched as though they wanted to curl into a sneer, but she didn't let it happen. He'd be easier to control if he trusted her; best not to push it.

She sat up as soon as he'd shifted off of her - a little too quickly, considering that she was coming out of her first actual rest in several days of starvation. She gave a small growl of frustration, putting a hand to her head in a moment of dizziness, her head throbbing. Damn Loz's strength.

But the pain eased - slowed to a trickle and then ceased all together like the stream from a faucet gradually being shut off. A too-warm thrill washed over her...

She jerked her shoulder out from under Loz's hand. "Dammit, stop wasting Cure spells!" She hissed, her voice louder than she'd intended.

Loz froze. There was a sudden sound of splashing water, a hundred feet upstream. Tifa went still as well, a little too shocked to immediately kick herself.

Whatever was out there was making a great deal of noise in the water. It occurred to her that most creatures would be more quiet, particularly at night, unless they'd had the instinct bred out of them...

"Wark!"

...Like domesticated chocobos.

The single cry seemed the trigger for a barrage of similar sounds. There was an entire flock of chocobos just a bit upstream, and they'd no idea of how to behave in the wild.

Tifa relaxed, almost able to laugh. "Go back to sleep, Loz."

He still hadn't moved away. She'd think he was afraid of the dark if that wasn't such a ridiculous idea. "But -"

"It's just chocobos," she mumbled back. "Probably escaped when the Saucer fell. We can catch some tomorrow. They're not gonna be hard to find even if they wander off. So... go to sleep."

Loz finally moved away, and Tifa lay down again, trying to forget how hungry she was. The exhaustion was a greater need right now, especially because she'd just gotten Cure cast on her again - food could wait for morning. She needed to rest.

She could trust him just that much, couldn't she?

* * *

The rest of the night was uneventful; the sky showed the palest hints of dawn when Tifa opened her eyes again. The grass under her was damp with rapidly evaporating dew, sky and land painted in shades of gray.

Loz was only a few feet away, facing away from her, breathing slow and even. He must've used a Cure spell on himself as well; his sunburn seemed to be gone.

She simply stared at his back for a while, collecting herself. Food, then following the stream, then heading northeast on whatever road they found and making for Costa del Sol.

"Wark!"

...Chocobos, then food, then following the stream...

"WARK!"

"OW!"

Loz suddenly sprang up, swinging before he even gained his feet, but he still wasn't fast enough to hit the blue chocobo that had wandered up and, after tilting its head to look at Loz, very casually stepped on him.

At least her theory had been correct. These were chocobos from the Gold Saucer. The blue was wearing a racing saddle.

"Don't chase it," she snapped, getting to her feet as Loz crouched as though ready to spring. "You'll spook the whole flock."

Loz shot her an unreadable look over his shoulder and straightened, looking back at the chocobos again. The blue had danced away to join the others, though it was obviously poking its head up to check on Loz's position now and then.

Tifa studied the flock for a moment, and smiled a little. There were a few with cargo packs in varying stages of readiness, and one with cargo that she recognized. It was carrying their supplies.

Finally, something had gone right.

* * *

Seven days ago, in the desert, after they'd fled the Gold Saucer, Loz had been fairly silent. True, the situation had been significantly more dire just then, but still...

"Wanna go faster."

Tifa missed that silence. "Too bad."

"Aw, c'mon," Loz wheedled. "Just for a bit? I mean, this guy's a racer!"

Tifa looked over at Loz on the blue with the racing saddle, and wondered how many times she'd had this conversation already. She'd lost count. "We have a long way to go. If we try to rush, we'll end up with tired birds and have to stop to rest more often. So the chocobos walk." Her words came out through gritted teeth; she'd been through this too many times to be able to hide her impatience at this point.

He was quiet for a while. There was nothing to hear but the sound of the chocobos' large clawed feet on the dirt road, and the movements of small animals in the undergrowth, and the small disturbances of drops of water falling from the canopy high above. There had been light rain up there for the past day and a half, but all there was in the gray forest below was mist and gloom and half-dark. She was just getting used to the pleasant silence when he spoke again.

"Sometime, maybe?"

Her hands tightened on her green chocobo's reins. At least this was progress in this conversation; he'd never asked this before. "Maybe," she sighed, staring off into the gloom. He'd fight it now if she tried to keep him bound and gagged, wouldn't he. Maybe it'd be worth the effort?

Not really, she decided. Not when she could trust him enough to be able to sleep on the far side of a campfire from him, unspelled and unbound, now. If she could only trust him as far as she could throw him, maybe she'd gotten a little stronger and could throw him a little further.

Not as though she could really cast Sleepel on him any more anyway. He wasn't about to give up his Barrier Materia willingly, and she hadn't the time or energy to beat it out of him just now.

His voice suddenly cut the silence again. "Can we stay at an inn?"

"No," Tifa automatically responded. No way was she endangering more people again; they'd already skirted one small village a few days ago, even though it had taken half a day to do so.

A particularly large drop of water landed on the hood of her cloak, very nearly in her face.

On the other hand, the thought of an actual bed to sleep in, warm water to bathe in...

It seemed that Loz's thoughts ran in the same direction. "Could sleep in a bed," he mumbled, shifting a bit on the saddle. He somehow managed to get his own cloak caught in the saddle on a regular basis. At least he'd had his jacket and the cloak to wear, once the weather cooled; she'd dealt with him having heat stroke, and she wasn't interested in dealing with him having hypothermia as well.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. She was _not_ going to dwell on the idea of staying at inn. No matter how filthy and increasingly damp and cold she'd been for the past week, staying at an inn was still a bad idea.

His voice became a little stronger. "We'd only need one..."

Now he was just trying to get a rise out of her, like a nasty little kid. Well, to be fair, Loz really had only existed for four years, after all. Actually, that might explain some of his behavior.

"We're not staying at an inn," she said with all the patience she could muster. "You can sleep in the bed when we get to the house in Costa del Sol. I don't care. I'll take the floor."

"Aw, c'mon," he said in a tone that told her that he was pouting again. "It'd be warmer with us in the same bed."

He'd managed to work in something similar every night since they'd gotten high enough in the mountains that the climate had cooled. "I am _not_ sleeping with you," she snapped. And instantly regretted her words. Now he knew he'd gotten to her again, the bastard.

"Who said anything about sleeping," he shot back, and she could hear the grin in his voice.

She refused to look at him, but her hands tightened on the reins again. The yellow pack chocobo, furthest back on the longer lead line, gave a small squawk as it was jerked forward a little. "Let me ask you something," she said over her shoulder. "Exactly why are you so interested in breeding with me?"

She expected him to have some idiotic answer - "Because you're there" or "But I _like_ you" or maybe even "Mother said so". But what came out sounded startled and very nearly embarrassed. "What, you think I wanna have kids with you? Hell no."

She was about to amend her choice of words when he added simply, "I just wanna fuck you, is all."

The bad part about riding chocobos was that she couldn't simply whirl around and punch him in the face. He was out of reach. All she could do was turn and stare at him.

And he was still talking. "I mean, my brothers and me _can't_ breed with humans. We did try. We just don't get any offspring, so anything we do with humans is just play... Why are you looking at me like that?"

Tifa realized that yes, she was staring at him, but her expression clearly wasn't as annoyed or disdainful as he'd been expecting. It had suddenly struck her as a little sad, really; did he even realize how much that doomed his family, as a species? She quickly turned away from him, effectively hiding her face. "So the Planet is spared you actually reproducing? That's hopeful," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Unless one of your brothers is actually a sister..."

"That's not very nice," Loz growled. Tifa permitted herself a small, smug smile, but it was wiped away with his next words. "Anyway, we have Mother."

She shuddered, face twisting in disgust, glancing at him again in spite of herself. "You breed with your _Mother?_"

"What? No, not for offspring! I just meant -"

"Stop talking," Tifa said quickly, speaking over him and trying very hard not to think about the ramifications of what Loz had just said. "Just shut up. Now. Please."

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the dripping forest and the footsteps of chocobos to listen to. She was surprised that he'd listened to her. A little longer and she'd nearly managed to put the disturbing thoughts from her mind, features relaxing...

She suddenly scowled again, lifting her head and sniffing. Smoke?

A little further revealed what she'd feared: a logging village tucked into a dell downhill from them. The road ran straight through it. There was just enough of a break in the trees that the sky could be seen clearly, and it was getting darker, sunset coming on quickly in the mountains.

...He'd smelled the smoke. That was why Loz had asked about an inn.

"All right," Tifa murmured, looking up and around. "There, we'll skirt to the northwest. It's getting dark, but we'll have to keep going until we're well clear before we can camp for the night -"

As if on cue, the sky suddenly flashed, and a few moments later an earsplitting peal of thunder rumbled around them. Storms came on fast in the mountains, too.

Skirting the town in the dark didn't seem like such a good idea in a heavy rain; they didn't know the terrain well enough. They could always backtrack, of course, but it would take a while to retreat far enough to build a campfire. Assuming that they could even keep one going in the rain. As for sleeping... Tifa shuddered.

"Or there's that inn down there," she sighed as the first drops of heavy rain began to fall. She nudged her green chocobo into a walk, heading down into the valley and cursing herself the entire way.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	14. All Hands To The Rend

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "My Virgin Widows" by Mors Syphilitica.

This was turning out to be one very long chapter, so I had to break it up... my apologies to anyone I promised an extra-long chapter to.

* * *

**(14: All Hands to the Rend)**

* * *

The town, with the imaginative name of Wooddell, consisted of a score of wooden buildings in an artificial clearing, coated with enough dirt and ash to belie their age. The place was another of Shinra's half-hearted attempts at organizing resources after things had gone really bad, and was only a few years old. The largest building was the mill, at the edge of the community by an artificially widened stream that poured into flumes for transporting the trimmed logs through the forest to greater waterways. The second largest building was the inn.

The inn was, like many of its kind, a kind of social center for its village, as well as sporting a dozen rooms on its upper floors. This was obvious to Tifa as soon as she pushed open the double doors; the large common room smelled of hot food and beer and dirt, and was fairly packed with people.

"Hey," she called out, even as a dozen men looked to her as soon as the doors creaked open. She stood on the threshold, between warm gold within and cold, dripping blue night without. "Innkeeper? Got a room?"

There was an uncomfortable moment of near-silence, then a rising tide of murmurs. Tifa guessed that they didn't get many travelers here. Either that or she was standing next to a wanted poster bearing her likeness, though a quick glance at the walls revealed that to not be the case. It couldn't be her appearance alone - a woman with a scar on her face was nothing unusual at this point.

"Got plenty," a man finally called from the far side of the room. It took Tifa a moment to locate him - he was just as big as most of the men in the room, loggers all, but appeared to be in his fifties and more heavy-set than muscular. He walked around the end of a bar, making his way toward her, drying a large pewter mug with the cloth in his hands.

"How much?" She asked as he approached. "I'll pay in advance."

The man laughed once, and it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Gil's no good any more, little girl," he said bluntly, openly looking her over. "Trade only. Whatchagot?"

Tifa had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched, and glanced over the room again. It took her a moment to place what seemed to be wrong.

There were absolutely no women anywhere in the room. And she'd seen none as they'd walked in on the town's muddy streets, either. She'd heard about these little company towns that were populated with workers and then more or less abandoned by Shinra before they really developed into communities with women and families. It hadn't really dawned on her how dangerous a situation that could present until just now.

Loz was lurking just outside the door - trying to hide under the eaves from the rain, while holding the reins of all three chocobos, who didn't seem at all pleased about not being able to share his dry space. Glancing at him, Tifa took the only course of action she could think of on such short notice.

"My husband and I have chocobos," she said hopefully. "Would one of them be enough?"

The tide of murmurs inside the inn seemed to crest, then slack off again. She hoped that being spoken for would be enough to reduce her to nothing more interesting than a traveler here. And that Loz wouldn't blow it.

The innkeeper leaned to look out the door in the direction she'd glanced; luckily, Loz had the sense to keep his face hidden in his hood. The keeper grunted. "Green'll get you an' yer birds room an' meals for long as ya want," he announced.

Tifa winced. Why couldn't he have chosen the yellow pack-bird? The green was stronger. "We only need tonight," she said. "We need to leave in the morning."

"Green'll getcha tonight, then," the man shrugged, glancing toward Loz again, as though daring him to try to do something about it - but again, Loz made no move. The innkeeper clearly took this as agreement to his terms. "Stable's around back; come in through the kitchen, up the stairs, first door on the third floor's yours, best we got. We don' do room service," he added with a sneer, "So come down when ya wanna eat. Food's on all night." He turned and headed back toward the bar.

Well, that was that. Tifa ducked back outside, waiting until the door was closed behind her before scowling.

Loz was openly grinning at her, like she was the most wonderfully amusing creature he'd ever seen. "Shut up," she snapped before he even opened his mouth to speak. "Not a word. Screw this up and I'll wipe the floor with you." She yanked the reins from his hands and stormed toward the side of the building to take the confused birds to the stables.

She didn't realize right away that she simply expected Loz to follow, and she wasn't sure if she was lucky or not when she saw that he did.

It took a few minutes of hushed conversation to get Loz to agree to proceed directly from the stables to the common area of the inn for food, before heading up to their room. Once in the room, they'd have to figure out some sort of bathing arrangements; neither of them were willing to pass up the opportunity, Tifa was surprised to discover. She cringed at the thought of vulnerability, particularly with Loz in this dangerously good a humor, but she decided to worry about that when she got there.

The best way to maintain any sort of disguise here, therefore, seemed to be to eat quickly, before washing Loz's hair (as he insisted be done before they left). His hair was completely matted now, bits of fiery gel still visible, but mostly coated in mud from a few smaller fights during the past week. Tifa's hair wasn't doing much better, really, though she'd put it in a messy braid a few days back for sanity's sake.

She did, however, allow Loz to pull back the hood of his cloak - just as she did - when they sat down at a table close to the stairs. It wouldn't do to appear too secretive. That would only attract even more attention, wouldn't it?

It didn't matter. Most of the people in the common room seemed to have been waiting for them to arrive, and not attracting attention didn't seem to be an option. She was uncomfortably aware of being studied as soon as they sat down, and the effect wasn't lost on Loz, and he didn't like crowds to begin with. At least by this village's standards, his stature didn't set him apart.

Unfortunately, Loz chose to cope with the number of people in the room by paying more attention to Tifa. "So, _honey_," he drawled, leaning his chin on one hand. "What happened to our wedding rings?"

Tifa tried not to glare at him. He was smiling, but there was a very slight manic edge to his gaze. He needed to talk in order to ignore the mass of people around them, she realized. If that was what it took...

"Pawned 'em at the Gold Saucer to support your gambling habit," she said evenly, looking over to the bar and nodding at the innkeeper. Food would be good right about now.

"Ouch," Loz mumbled, sitting back. "S'ok, my mom'll get us replacements."

She couldn't quite hide her glare this time. "Let's not talk about my mother-in-law," she suggested, her tone tightly controlled. "She hates me."

Loz's smile actually faded. "S'nothing personal," he said, and she couldn't tell if it was entirely part of the facade or not.

The innkeeper suddenly appeared with two large wooden bowls of stew, chunks of bread stuffed along the sides, which he simply placed on the table in front of them. Apparently the menu was limited here. "Beer or water?" he asked.

"Water."

"Beer."

The man nodded and walked away. Tifa frowned at Loz. "You're not going to like it," she told him.

Loz shrugged. "Then I'll drink your water."

It wasn't bad stew at all, really, even if the bread seemed a little off somehow. Tifa wondered how long it had been since they'd had a supply shipment here. Their flour might be infested with something at this point.

Loz didn't seem to care, and had his bowl mostly cleaned before the innkeeper even brought their drinks. Another bowl of stew appeared for him shortly thereafter.

And he did drink the beer, even if he made a face at the first few gulps.

Tifa ate more slowly, taking refuge in the silence necessary to the act. She tried to keep an eye on the others in the room... all men, most of whom were Loz's size if not larger, and all of whom seemed to be trying to pretend they weren't watching. It was a strange feeling, having Loz be quite possibly the safest person in the area for her to be near. Tifa cringed at the thought, but really, Loz's imaginary claim on her was probably her best protection.

She unconsciously shifted a bit closer to him and tried to ignore the people for a bit, taking in the room instead. Their table was at the back, in an alcove next to the stairs, with the bar and the door to the kitchen on their other side. In the middle of the room was a large stone fireplace holding a roaring fire, keeping the common room as warm and dry as it was cold and wet outside. The ceiling was a little low, but would still have given clearance for someone as tall as Barret - which several of the men here were, as well as matching him in bulk. There were a number of hides stretched on the walls, a few of them dragon.

Tifa shivered. What had Shinra done, staffed a town with ex-SOLDIERs?

Cloud's armor on her shoulder suddenly felt very conspicuous, despite Lia's traveling cloak concealing it.

It struck Tifa that she seemed to be collecting clothing from dead friends. She abruptly set her spoon and the remainder of her bread down in the bowl, bowing her head.

"S'wrong wi'you?" Loz slurred, his head propped up on one fist now. His second bowl was empty, and he was watching her with drowsy eyes, his free hand clutching the mostly-empty beer mug.

_Keep it together..._ She glanced up at him, trying to keep her expression neutral. She didn't know when she'd seen him look so tired. If she'd known that beer would have this much of an effect on him, she'd have kept some on hand for him so that she'd feel better about sleeping at night, she decided. "Nothing," she mumbled, before glancing over to the bar and waving for more drinks.

She found herself wanting to run, leave him and go get a chocobo and get the hell out of here. Maybe he'd come after her. It didn't matter. She just needed to... go. Get away. Get to Costa del Sol and wait for Vincent to tell her what to do, because she couldn't do this on her own...

She didn't realize that something was wrong until there was a thump next to her that rattled the spoons in their bowls.

Her head snapped around to face Loz - only Loz was slumped face-down over the table, out cold. She stared at him, panic sinking its fangs into her. She hadn't factored this kind of event into consideration at all. _This_ was what alcohol did to him? What was she supposed to do now?

A hand landed on her unarmored shoulder, and she realized that many of the men in the room were pressing closer. Like there'd been some sort of signal. Like they'd been expecting...

Oh. It wouldn't have mattered what Loz had to drink, would it? No matter what he had, they would've drugged it.

"Now jus' you take it easy, ma'am," the man who'd laid his hand on her shoulder said, in a voice that would doubtless have been charming under different circumstances. "Nobody's gonna hurt ya. Well, not much, anyway. We make it a practice to be as gentle as we can, see, with the ladies."

A sandy-haired man took a seat across the table from her. "We do have a few wives but there just aren't many to go around," he explained, obviously making an effort to be kind and extending a hand. "I'm Mayor Packard, and this -" he nodded to the man that kept Tifa planted in her seat - "Is Sheriff Robs, and we'll be showin' ya the ropes here."

Tifa didn't want to know if the mayor meant that literally. She glanced about, from face to face, but all the men seemed in accord; she'd find no allies when she chose to fight.

The sheriff's hand lightened on her shoulder and he patted at her. "There's a good girl," he said, convinced that she must be taking this well if she wasn't struggling. "It's not a bad life here, you'll see. We'll put yer man t'work an' he can have ya too now an' then."

The mayor was still smiling at her with hand extended. "You don't have a choice, really," he said with that patient kindness again. "Trust me, it's easier to just accept it. You're more needed here than you'll ever be anywhere else."

Tifa hesitated, her face solemn, then lifted her bare hand and placed it in his.

"There now," he said, his smile widening. "What's your name, ma'am?"

Mayor Packard's eyes suddenly glazed and he keeled over to one side, falling off his chair, even as Tifa's lips finished forming the word she whispered. "Sleep."

She had the sheriff down as well before anyone else managed to rush her. Leaping up and onto the tabletop, she tried to dive for the kitchen, but found its door suddenly slammed shut, likely being bolted on the other side. She sent four more men down before she managed to jump onto the bar, running fast to the far end of the polished wood surface - mugs and bottles scattering, groping hands stepped on or over - then sideways along the wall, before pushing off and kicking at the first men to block her way. If she could just reach the door...

The room was full of shouting, voices howling "Get her!" and "Materia!" and "Careful!" The men were trying to close ranks on her, and the ceiling was too low for her to run across their heads. She'd have to fight her way through.

Her hands formed fists. No problem.

...And then the back of the room exploded in a fresh round of shouting, and an outright scream, and the sound of snapping wood and bone, and cries of disbelief. Someone yelled that there'd been enough in the beer to put down a chocobo; Tifa didn't have to ask what they were talking about. Whatever they'd drugged Loz with had worn off, probably thanks to the same metabolism that he'd claimed burned through alcohol too fast for him to feel it.

And Loz was not pleased.

More people were watching him now than her, and she looked in spite of herself, just in time to see someone lifted and thrown into the crowd. The body had seemed so limp; maybe it was someone she'd cast Sleepel on. She could hope.

But it didn't matter. She heard a roar that definitely came from Loz, and she hesitated for a crucial moment more. She could use him as a distraction to escape, but -

Someone grabbed her from behind; she elbowed him easily in the stomach and unbalanced him with one foot planted inside his ankle, and flipped him behind the bar. Another hand grabbed her leg and she lost her balance herself, falling into waiting hands.

"Got her!"

"Get her arms!"

"Don't let her -"

She kicked, broke free, was grabbed again, managed to cast another Sleepel before someone got her hands behind her back. She braced against her captor and kicked with both legs, sending the man in front of her flying, before someone punched her in the stomach.

Tifa doubled over and tried not to lose her meal even as the man that had punched her was shoved away. "Not so rough, you idio-"

A wooden chair suddenly collided with the speaker's head, and he broke off with a cry, falling. It had been purely accidental, Tifa was certain. The people around her all seemed to be stumbling back, and as she managed to stand straight with a groan - arms still held behind her back - she saw what seemed to be a table leg rising and falling, streaming with blood.

Oh god, she had to get him out of here. He'd slaughter the entire village.

"Let go of me!" She gasped, trying to break free, then shouted. "Loz! Don't!"

No one around her seemed to recognize the name, and the man holding her didn't let go. There was another surge, several men close to Loz outright turning to try to flee, and someone was pushed down in front of her.

Before the man could rise, she lifted her feet to stand on his shoulders and forced herself up and back. The armor on her shoulder jabbed into her captor's jaw, good as any punch. He let go of her arms with a grunt.

She was barely free before someone else stumbled into her and she was spun, flung forward, bent over the bar. She tried to rise, but a large hand grabbed her braid, fingers tangling as the plait came loose, and her head was yanked forward.

The innkeeper snarled at her. "Not so fast -"

Someone started to scream, and the air of battle in the room suddenly shifted, fear sweeping through. In the mirror behind the bar, Tifa saw that someone had fallen into the fireplace, and was now flailing their burning limbs as they struggled out, setting those pressed close on fire as well.

The innkeeper swore but did not relax his grip. "You! Get her arms!"

There was a thud as something heavy smashed into the other end of the bar, and the sound of bone breaking again, and suddenly Loz was there. He had another man by the face and smashed the man into the wall next to the bar. The head in his grip crumpled with a horrifying sound like the grating of wet stone, and the man's limbs began an uncontrollable twitching.

Someone smashed a chair over Loz's back, but he didn't seem to notice. He was grinning at Tifa with an expression that would make demons cringe.

She knew that look. He was lost again, nothing but destruction incarnate, and he'd just seen his favorite target.

In a burst of adrenalin, Tifa shoved the heel of her hand into the innkeeper's chin - "Sleep!" - and turned, kicking and punching and casting indiscriminately. Just about everyone she hurt would recover, she was certain; those that Loz got a hold of wouldn't be so lucky. She had to get outside and lead him away.

Villagers were actually fleeing at this point, one of the double doors already knocked off its hinges. The people on fire inside were still screaming - well, most of them, anyway. There were tables on fire as well, and it was spreading to the walls. The sight stabbed through her, but there was nothing she could do for those she'd cast Sleep spells on. She could only pray that someone else would rescue them before the inn burned to the ground.

She looked over her shoulder as she reached the door. "Loz! Here!"

It was unnecessary. He was gaining on her, shoving men his own size aside like leaves in wind.

She turned and ran.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	15. Is This Enough, Do You Want More?

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

The chapter title is lyrics from the song "Hurt Me" by Kerli (and I can't recommend her music enough!)

* * *

**(15: Is This Enough, Do You Want More?)**

* * *

The cool, damp air outside that she'd been so eager to escape seemed welcoming now, the raindrops on her skin a blessing compared to the fever of battle in the inn. Legs spattered with mud from her pounding feet, Tifa raced straight down the dirt street, hoping that she would not lose her footing before her eyes could adjust to the rain-darkened night. There were people around - more of the lumbermen, running in the direction opposite her with pails of water in hand, shouting - but none paid attention to her now.

She should've known better than to ever try something so stupid as coming into a town. Hadn't she known better? Hadn't she said "no"? Why in the hell had she ever -

Her foot twisted, slipping on the muddy street, and Tifa fell face-first. She could hear the splashing thumps of Loz's footsteps coming near.

Up and running again like a spurred chocobo, she was sure that she felt the disturbance of air from him swiping at her back. She certainly heard his frustrated growl only a few feet behind her.

The road that entered the town left it just beyond the mill, across a rough wooden bridge, and she headed that way. If she could just gain enough distance from the town before engaging Loz, the village might survive.

But her breath was already coming in short gasps, her pace flagging.

She heard Loz snarl again behind her, and something collided with her side - probably his fist, but it didn't matter. She was swept from her feet, tumbling as she landed, until she struck the wall of a building. She managed to sit up against it and open her eyes -

Just in time to throw herself aside and dodge Loz's fist. The heavy log that her head had been resting against splintered under the impact of his strike.

She scrabbled to her feet again as Loz righted himself, slipping in the mud as she tried to run again. He was right behind her - but he slipped as well, and it gave her enough time to gain a little distance. She knew she couldn't outrun him for long. She needed to find a way to slow him down and contain the fighting as best she could.

There. The mill. It was night; the place should be mostly deserted. The door she found exploded in under the force of her kick, breaking to pieces, and she was in.

The mill wasn't large - all it was for was roughly standardizing the logs that came through it so that they'd be easier to move, so it was neither full-time nor overly large. Anyone who had been attending it must have left to try to fight the fire at the inn by now - but the building still echoed with the sound of heavy gears. The saws were still for the night, but the stream outside still turned the water wheel, and a little of the machinery was still moving. Water coursed through a network of flumes inside as well, arranged to speed logs from outside through the building.

There was a stairway next to the door, close enough for Tifa to grab and swing on its railing to change direction. There'd be another door, a back way out of the building, wouldn't there? She ran toward the far end of the building.

The mill wasn't either empty. She ran straight into a group of men hastily re-routing a flume so as to more quickly provide water outside - undoubtedly for a bucket brigade for the fire.

She could only scream for them to get away as she leapt onto a waist-high track that led directly into an array of saws. It was the quickest way around - except that the surface of the track was nothing but loose rollers to slide logs on. She slipped and fell hard to her knees, still sliding backward.

Loz's fists came down toward her. She glimpsed him in time and rolled away, off the conveyor, hitting the floor hard. The track buckled and ripped apart under the blow in a spray of metal rollers. Tifa didn't look, not even as the men's shouts turned to howls of pain - she kept running toward the back of the building.

At the far end of the open room, there was no door, only another stairway - and when she turned, Loz was right behind her. Tifa widened her stance and raised her fists just in time to block the first blows, and managed to throw several of her own. Loz staggered back, her attack strong enough that he actually blocked and gave ground.

It didn't last. He whirled and punched with the motion, hitting her in the side; she stumbled into some sort of control box, levers shifting under her. There was an abrupt grinding of machinery, and some of the saws - large gear-driven reciprocating saws powered by the water wheel - began to move.

Loz lashed out again, and as Tifa ducked away, several of the iron levers snapped off as his strike hit them instead. Tifa was already heading up the stairs.

She was halfway down the overhanging catwalk when Loz grabbed its floor at the top of the stairs and, with a roar, wrenched it free. The entire metal structure twisted and swayed. Tifa jumped toward one of the flumes just in time to avoid falling, catching the side of the wooden trough with her fingers and swinging herself up to crawl on.

The water running through the slippery trough was straight from the mountain stream uphill from the mill, clear and freezing cold. But that was the least of her worries. The flume shook and creaked as Loz jumped onto it as well.

The only way to go was down, but the best route led toward him for a few feet. Tifa swallowed and crossed the distance at a run before leaping to a support beam, then down onto the flat top of a saw. She paused to look up, swaying with the saw's motion for balance, then leapt aside to the floor as Loz came crashing down. The saw bent under his impact and metal screamed against metal as it tore into the rolling track that led to it before it slipped its gears and fell still.

Loz jumped, but she was ready for him this time, blocking his kick and throwing several punches of her own. He lunged, arms closing to trap her, but she whipped herself backward in a walkover and caught his chin with her kicking feet as she righted herself, then delivered a spinning kick to his chest before he recovered. He stumbled back a step, only for his arm to be caught by a vertically oriented saw; the teeth chewed into his arm before he could yank himself away. He didn't even cry out - only turned and ripped the saw from its gears, swinging it at her, his face viciously contorted.

Tifa ducked; the saw bit deeply into a support beam and stuck, and Loz released it, hurtling forward again. She blocked several more blows, forced back, and kicked a heavy hanging chain toward Loz to distract him long enough for her to turn and run again.

She felt cool air on her face again and ducked out a small door - only to find herself inside the water wheel housing. The axel from the center of the wheel spun only a few feet away, surrounded by ever-moving gears. There was an escape, a door to the outside, cool blackness beyond the dim light inside the mill - but it led into the inside of the water wheel, and the spokes of the wheel cut past the door with alarming regularity. She'd have time her jump to get between them.

Her heart was beating fast, but she tried to calm herself, watching the speed of the spokes carefully and trying to concentrate. She couldn't think about him coming after her. She couldn't think about the vibration of his feet on the wooden floor, only a few feet away. She couldn't think about his breath or him reaching for her, couldn't afford to stand here giving false-starts every time she thought there was an opening she could jump through...

There.

The threw herself forward, diving through the opening.

Too late. The searing heat of his hand closed around her leg. She shrieked as the next spoke of the wheel struck her shin hard, the water relentlessly driving it up, toward the top of the door into the gear house. It would sheer her leg off below the knee. In desperation, hanging onto a strut inside the wheel, she stomped with her free foot, trying to drag her leg through. Maybe it would cut off his arm instead, if she pulled through hard enough.

There was one side effect of the rain and the cold water of the flumes: Loz's hand was slippery. When Tifa pulled, he lost his grip. Her leg slipped through, the frame catching the toe of her boot so lightly that she could wrench it free before it caught. The motion unbalanced her, however - she fell inside the wheel, catching herself on another support rod before tumbling into the freezing water at the bottom of the wheel.

The wheel's motion carried her up again almost immediately; gasping, Tifa wasted no time. She shoved herself through the gap between spokes on the far side of the wheel and tumbled into the rushing creek again.

Loz wasted little time as well. He punched and stomped at the spokes of the wheel passing the doorway until the entire wheel groaned free of the axel, tilting into the water. Its diameter was large enough that it fell partly on the opposite bank, coming to a halt.

It missed Tifa; the water was already carrying her downstream, and she couldn't find her footing. The current was too fast. The night was pitch-black the moment she was carried beyond the town - she could do little but try to keep her head above water. There was nothing she could do to avoid the rocks that the creek dashed her against.

It was unclear how much time passed, but Tifa finally found footing, enough that she could stand. It was agony to force herself to her feet - she was battered and shivering uncontrollably, and she couldn't put weight on her leg that the waterwheel spoke had struck - but she did it, her arms folded tightly over her chest in a vain attempt to maintain body heat.

It was enough to make her think fondly of the desert.

She could see, just barely - the rain had stopped and the clouds had thinned enough for the moon to shine through, and she could just make out her surroundings in shades of black. She was in a narrow patch of shallows that seemed to lead to a sloping, tree-lined bank.

A few steps brought her to solid, if not dry, ground. Tifa fell to her knees in the leaves, curling over herself. Fire. She had to make a fire and get herself warm, because she was definitely suffering from hypothermia. If she could at least cover herself in leaves they'd insulate her a bit...

There were a thousand sounds around her, like movements in the leaves. It took her a moment to realize that it was beginning to rain again. The light was gone and she couldn't see any more.

And then there were louder sounds. Something big was crashing through the leaves, uphill from her. She tried to jerk her head up, to get to her feet and raise her fists defensively, but she was shivering too much.

It was Loz. She could see his eyes. Of course - he could see in the dark well enough that he'd simply followed by land, like a hunting animal.

He snarled and rushed at her, and it was the sound of a baying hound that had found the prey it tracked. She couldn't have been in the water too long, she decided with disturbing detachment - his battle-madness hadn't abated in the slightest.

She could do nothing whatsoever to react. He swung in an uppercut, his hand closing around her throat and lifting her, and slammed her back against a tree trunk and held her there. Her feet weren't touching the ground.

For a long moment he only held her there at arm's length, panting loudly enough that she could hear him over the rain, over the rush in her ears. She couldn't breathe, couldn't stop shivering, couldn't swallow, couldn't scream. The roar in her ears throbbed painfully - the ache of her heart trying to pump blood through the vessels his hand crushed.

She made a feeble attempt to claw at his hand, felt his skin give under her fingernails, but it made no difference.

His eyes, all she could see in the dark, were narrowed and cruel. The man she'd traveled with for the past week, the one that had been happy to argue and whine and share food and let her sleep - he was gone, nothing left of him. The thing that held her, felt her pulse slow in his hand and laughed with delight... This was Jenova's son.

She'd heard this laugh before, in the Tower, as Loz had carved intricate designs into her skin. And she'd heard it before that, too. She'd heard it in the cave where Vincent had found his love's body suspended in Materia, another pearl sealed away by the Lifestream... when Sephiroth had tracked them there. She'd heard it in Wutai over the screaming, as Sephiroth had cast and summoned and destroyed. She'd heard it in the Forgotten Capital, when Sephiroth had stood over Aeris' twitching body, guarding her as she swiftly bled out. She'd heard it in the Temple of the Ancients, back when they'd thought they could take the Black Materia and keep it safe from Sephiroth... but he'd been there with them the entire time.

She'd heard it the night that Nibelheim burned.

She couldn't tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were open wide in the darkness.

It was getting so hard to think...

That was when she saw him.

Cloud.

She didn't know why she could see him, but she could; maybe the moon had come out from behind the clouds again? But it was still raining... it didn't matter. Cloud was there. She could see him over Loz's shoulder. She could see his hair, more the color of daffodils than honey, and the sweater and belt and armor of his SOLDIER uniform... Wait, wasn't she still wearing his armor? Maybe she'd lost it in the water and he'd found it again...

She could see the slight gleam of his Mako-enhanced eyes. People said that the Mako-glow of SOLDIERS' eyes was unsettling, unnatural... but Tifa had always liked it, in Cloud's eyes. Because it was what Cloud had wanted for so long. She saw it as a visible symbol of him attaining his dream, so she'd liked it. Sometimes, many times, she'd wanted nothing more than to look into his eyes in the dark.

Like she was now. Only somehow, she could see all of Cloud, not just the glow of his eyes. He looked concerned, and was reaching out to her, but he did nothing to stop Loz.

That was all right. Tifa knew why. It was because Cloud was dead. She'd killed him herself.

The pounding roar in her ears had risen to drown out Loz's laughter, the rain, everything.

The only way to be with Cloud was to die, and she was dying, right now, her pulse flickering under Loz's hand as her lungs screamed for air. She was losing consciousness. She knew that.

So she had to tell Cloud now, while she still could, so that when she was dead, it would be all right to be with him. Maybe he could even forgive her if he knew.

Her lips formed the words, though there was no breath to force between them. "I'm sorry."

Loz's hand tightened on her neck, and there was a strange snapping feeling, a sense of collapse. Too much pain.

She had to tell Cloud, because she'd never gotten to before. So she had to. Her cold lips formed silent words again, her eyes closing.

"I love you."

Nothing.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	16. Something Said Just Once

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Once" by Felicia Sorenson (from the soundtrack to the film _Brotherhood of the Wolf_).

* * *

**(16: Something Said Just Once)**

* * *

She'd stopped screaming hours ago, though the haze of pain had erased her sense of time. The funny thing was, she was fine inside, she knew. All of the pain was on the surface; only her skin split and bled. Her bones were un-fractured, her organs whole, muscles no more than bruised or exposed. The regular, if slightly fast, beat of her heart was uninterrupted.

But that only meant that this could go on for eons more...

Warmth washed over her, with a tingle that shivered through her, settling low. The Cure spell should've been pleasant, should've given hope as her skin knit itself back together.

Instead, she only found that she had tears left after all, and a sob escaped her. The Cure spell only meant that he was wiping the canvas clean to begin again.

"Please," she whispered, knowing that it was futile to plead. The Queen had given him orders, and he would only stop when the conditions of those orders were met. But she couldn't stop herself, words spilling as uncontrollably as the tears from her blindfolded eyes. "P-please, I don't, I don't know where it is, I don't know where the Black Materia is..."

She felt him move close to her again. He liked being close, on his knees with her, running his hands down her suspended arms or under the skin of her back. The proximity made her tremble, unable to anticipate where the pain would begin this time.

"Mother says you know," he breathed, and she sobbed again. She felt fingers at the blindfold, and thought for a moment that it was going to be removed, but it was only pushed up to expose the side of her left eye. She still couldn't see, but tears seeped from the corner of her eye.

"She says you'll tell us soon," Loz murmured, and she could feel his breath drying the trails that the tears made down the side of her face. "That's all you have to do. Then I can stop."

She didn't believe for one moment that he actually _wanted_ to stop. He was too entranced with her, too curious about what happened when the blades met her skin...

"I don't know," Tifa sobbed, her mouth involuntarily twisting into a painful grimace. New tears slipped free.

Loz grunted and was silent for a few moments... and then she felt his finger wiping the tears from her cheek, following the trail to the corner of her eye. "Dragon tears, Mother calls them," he almost whispered. "False tears."

She sensed it coming, and panic gripped her body. "N-no, Loz -"

But he took her jaw in his hand, holding her firmly enough to keep her head still, and she felt the cold prick of sharpened metal at the corner of her eye...

Hours later, she hung in a pool of her own blood, sick on its scent but too empty for it to matter, hoarse from screaming herself silent again. She would have sagged in exhaustion, straining her arms to sit rather than stand on her knees, but Loz was still there, leaning against her and propping her up. He lazily carved some design on her upper chest, above the faint scar that Sephiroth had left her so long ago in Nibelheim. She could feel the knife scraping at her breastbone.

"Tifa?"

The knife nicked bone again, and that seemed the reason for her slight gasp and the way her head jerked a little. But it was the voice that had surprised her.

He was here. Cloud was here. He was right here, across the room, and she could hear him clear as day.

"Tifa, it's gonna be okay..."

The electronic door whirred open quite suddenly, and Loz straightened with a guilty start. The knife fell from his hand; she heard its muted clatter as it splashed in the thick blood on the floor.

Kadaj did not enter the room, only spoke from the doorway. His tone of disgust at how Loz seemed to enjoy his task was undisguised, though he did not raise his voice. "Mother says you're done," the youngest Prince informed his brother.

Loz stood immediately, without a word, and moved away. She felt the change in the air as he left the room, and heard Kadaj grumbling something about spreading her stink all over the Tower. Heard the door close again and heard the click of its lock.

It took Tifa a moment to realize that Kadaj was referring to the smell of her blood.

It took her a little longer to realize that she was left here alone, still bleeding, still suspended. Still helpless.

Her head hung forward and her shoulders creaked as she managed to sink down to sit on her knees. She couldn't even feel her upraised arms any more.

The door opened again some time later; the sound was enough to jolt Tifa from her fitful doze. Still blindfolded, she could barely spare the energy to wonder what new horror she was going to experience now.

"Tifa?"

She hung still as the weight of her name sank in. Her name, spoken by a female voice that she hadn't heard in years...

"Oh, Tifa, what have they done to you!" Footsteps rushed to her, splashing in blood when they neared. Delicate hands worked at her restraints until one arm, then the other, fell painfully free. Tifa collapsed to the floor, into her own blood, nearly losing consciousness at the sudden shift in blood pressure.

The pleasant warmth of a Cure spell washed over her again, and then another, and a hand tugged away her blindfold. Low-level Cure spells; her skin still ached with a few not-quite-healed wounds. The tear-cut at the corner of her eye remained, as did the flayed patch on her chest, and a few other wounds.

"Please, Tifa, say something!" Her rescuer knelt over her, tearing away the blindfold, her long tawny braid sliding over one shoulder and tickling Tifa's cheek before it was swept aside again. "Tifa -"

Tifa didn't move. She remained lying on the floor, arms fallen listlessly, and only her eyes shifted toward the woman that crouched over her. "You're dead, Aeris," she said bluntly.

Aeris' lips curved into a familiar smile. "Was," she corrected gently, laying her hand on Tifa's shoulder. "Can you get up? I don't think I can carry you!"

It was too much. Her head spinning, Tifa's tears began to flow again, and she was just as helpless as she'd been when bound. "Aeris, I'm - I'm sorry! I, Cloud, it was -"

Already on her knees, Aeris bent forward, slipping one cool arm under Tifa's head to cradle her, the other holding her shoulders. "Oh Tifa, I know, it's all right!" She murmured. "Shh, it's all right -"

"I killed him," Tifa choked. "I killed him, I killed him, I killed him -"

"Shh," Aeris whispered again. "It's all right. He knows that there was nothing you could do to save him. He told me to tell you, it's all right."

Tifa managed to quiet herself, finally sitting up, as Aeris stroked her hair with strangely cold hands. "Are you all right now?" The last Cetra asked, her expression reflecting only concern. "You have to get out of here. You have to get the Black Materia so that we can destroy it. It's the only way to end this."

Tifa nodded and managed to stand after a few tries, with Aeris' help. "What about you?" She asked, picking up on her friend's words.

Aeris smiled again. "I have business to finish here. Go, and don't get caught, all right? I'll be okay."

Tifa was halfway down one of the Tower's stairwells before she began to wonder about what Aeris had said...

But Cloud was at the bottom of the stairs. _Cloud_. Tifa stumbled to a halt, a few feet away from him. Her heart thumping wildly in her chest, she only stared.

He was peering around the edge of a small window in the door at the bottom. His sword in his hands, he turned to look at her, and smiled.

"The Princes are out there," he whispered, nodding toward the door. Then he nodded again, this time to a grating in the wall, half hidden under the stairs. "Go through there to the basement. There's a cargo dock on the far side of the building; leave that way."

She hesitated, a thousand words crowding her battered mind - but Cloud suddenly moved, lowering his oversized sword. He leaned in and caught the back of her head with one hand, and touched his forehead to hers. She could feel the warmth of his skin. "Go. Vincent's waiting."

Of course... Cloud was here to help Aeris. It made sense. Tifa found that she didn't even care to speculate what the might mean about how Cloud felt about Aeris; nothing mattered now except that he be happy. He was _alive_.

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Tifa gradually became aware of being in a dark, warm place. She was not in the Tower. She was not escaping with the help of dead friends, buoyed up by the false joy that they lived again.

For a moment her memory flashed back to a small abandoned lab, the recorded voice of Aeris' mother reciting Cetra lore: the story of Jenova's first appearance to the Cetra. "It looked like... our... our dead mothers... and our dead brothers..."

But she was not in that snowbound lab. She was not in the Tower. She was not held still with a Petrify spell as Vincent quickly cut the tracking device from her back. Of _course_ she'd been told that she had to find the Black Materia. Aeris had never been in the Tower...

For a few minutes she concentrated only on controlling her breathing, fighting to remain calm. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes anyway. The tears from her left eye traversed her cheek strangely, channeled by the scar that still remained there.

It was fairly comfortable, she realized as she calmed, though here and there, there were hard or sharp bits - nothing that a small shift didn't alleviate, for the most part. She came to her senses slowly and, unable to remember how she'd come to be in a reasonably comfortable place, tried to piece together what had happened.

It was a moment after she opened her eyes that she remembered the fight, and - and -

And she was underground, dangling roots above her tickling her face, nothing but the scent of dirt all around. She was hemmed in by rocks, solid earth walls, and thick roots.

Buried. She was buried. For a moment she panicked, struggling wildly.

One of the walls she kicked was softer than the others, and grunted when she struck it. Turning to look, she abruptly realized that she wasn't buried, because there was light, and that what she'd taken for stone before was muddy leather - Loz's jacket-clad back. He shifted, moving from lying with his back to her to lying on his front, and more light showed in the newly open space around him. He pillowed his head on one arm and regarded her sleepily, eyes visibly glowing in the dim space.

He looked terrible - coated in mud and bruised, with his lower lip split open, and sporting the remains of a badly wiped bloody nose. "You're awake," he mumbled, blinking slowly.

Tifa only stared at him, her pulse quickening again, caught between incredulity and terror. He seemed to have her wedged in a washed-out space beneath a tree's roots, on the bank of the creek, like some predator stashing its kill. In these close quarters, given that her brief frenzy hadn't been enough to dislodge him, how could she fend him off and get away?

But Loz was shifting again, sliding out of the cramped space to stand up outside. He bent and reached back inside, groping blindly, and with a sinking feeling, Tifa took his hand rather than let him grab her and drag her out. It was hopeless; she couldn't get away. She crawled out into the light - it wasn't raining now, and the sky was a dim, tired-looking blue - and stood up, dropping his hand as quickly as she could. She was trapped between Loz and the tree whose roots had provided shelter, with no way to make for any semblance of freedom.

It surprised her, though, that she felt that she _could_ run.

"Couldn't make a fire in the rain," he said, rubbing at his nose a bit and not really looking at her. The predatory nature she'd come to expect from him seemed dulled at the moment; she briefly wondered if he suffered hangovers from his berserker rages, before deciding that she really didn't care. She had to admit, though, that seeing how much damage he'd taken in the fight was a little gratifying.

"Figured that was better than being out in the open. Warmer," he went on, gesturing to the washout. "How, um..." He stopped, strangely uncertain. The silence stretched long enough that she thought he'd forgotten what he was saying, but he finally spoke again. "I used Cure on you a lot," he said bluntly. "You feel okay now?"

Tifa blinked, and blinked again, and it had nothing to do with how bright it seemed outside the hole in the ground. As if it wasn't bad enough that he was set on killing her... he seemed just as set on keeping her alive as well.

She stared at him for another long moment, until he accidentally made eye contact. She looked away first.

"I have a headache," she finally muttered, before saying more firmly, "I'm fine." The words _thank you_ very nearly slipped out purely out of habit, but she caught herself in time.

He seemed to visibly relax, and she caught the slight green glow of healing spells coursing over his filthy skin almost immediately. "Good," he mumbled, apparently mostly to himself.

After a moment, Loz stood straighter, rolling his shoulders and tilting his head a bit, working a crick out of his neck. "So," he said a bit more loudly, as though continuing some other conversation. "I didn't know which way to go, from here. To get to Costa del Sol."

It was like he was picking up where they'd left off, before the damned town back there. Tifa vaguely hoped that the place wasn't burned entirely to the ground in their wake. Places seemed to have a tendency to do that, once she'd visited.

She leaned back, half-sitting on the mass of roots behind her. There didn't seem to be much choice but to go along with him and whatever little fantasy he lived in where she could trust him and he hadn't pretty much killed her the night before. If she could survive until Costa del Sol, Vincent would be there; he'd know what to do.

"We were only a couple of days off by road," she sighed. "If we just follow the stream, we'll hit the coast, maybe in a day or so. And then we just head north." They'd have to forage, too; that would slow them down. But at least if they didn't try to get back to the road, they'd avoid the possibility of other settlements along the way. Costa del Sol itself was fairly deserted at this point, between the doom of the world and the strangely long, violent hurricane seasons since the Dark Year.

"Let's go then," Loz said, and took a few steps back, finally giving her room. "You can walk, right?"

Tifa swallowed, resigned to whatever fate lay in store. She couldn't even bring herself to glare. "I can walk."

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	17. A Sigh Escapes From Heaven & Worlds End

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "The Dream Within", composed by Elliot Goldenthal and sung by Lara Fabian (yay, thank you Kagetsukai for the info!). (Yes, from the _Final Fantasy: Spirits Within _movie. And yes, it's terribly wrong for this chapter, but for the feel of a few of the lyrics.)

**WARNING**: This is that scene in the action movie that you might want to track forward to get past. This chapter is very much rated "M" for disturbing sexuality. I'm serious - writing this made me severely uncomfortable, even though I've known from the start that it's important to the story. It's no more explicit than an R rated movie, but the mental process is painful. So this is your warning and your chance to skip it if you're at all squeamish on the subject of unpleasant sex. If you've been following the story, you can pretty much guess what went on enough to continue after this chapter.

Um... holler if you see any typos or other errors here, if you do read it. I couldn't go over it quite as carefully as I usually do.

* * *

**(17: A Sigh Escapes From Heaven And Worlds End)**

* * *

It was late in the day when they reached the house in Costa del Sol, and the storm that darkened the horizon out to sea seemed intent on making landfall soon. The waves whipped at the seawall, the streets were devoid of people; with the rain already lashing the sun-bleached buildings, and the windows all boarded up, it was hard to tell if the town was actually inhabited at all. There was no glimmer of light in any window that they passed, and no way to see if there was smoke from any of the chimneys. The humid, chill air masked any scent of smoke as well.

Someone had boarded the windows of the beach house, but it was undoubtedly to try to keep the building from being destroyed, not to protect anyone within.

The door was locked with a concealed combination lock; Tifa slid the panel aside with numbing fingers and fumbled the keys twice before entering the combination correctly. The door unlatched and she pushed it open. Loz stayed close behind her, and silently entered after her.

Her mouth was set in a thin, grim line, and had been for many hours. She cast her gaze over the familiar common room - it seemed that no one had been there in quite a long time. Then she turned to shut the door... only to find Loz already pushing it shut. The mechanical lock clicked back into place, the heavy bolts securing the door against the storm.

With the sound of the rising storm muffled outside, the room already seemed much more warm, despite the way the building creaked in the wind. Just not warm enough. Tifa had lost Lia's traveling cloak at some point during the battle with Loz a few days ago - she hadn't even noticed until the night after waking, when the temperature dropped again.

She'd huddled on her side on the hastily gathered conifer boughs, as close as she'd dared to their small fire under the dripping trees, shivering and rubbing her bare arms. After a few minutes of staring into the fire, unable to sleep, Loz had stood up on the far side of the fire - she hadn't even realized that he'd been watching her - and had approached her. She'd tried to rise, but he simply held her down as he lay at her back. Without a word, he'd held her in place with his arm over her, and had slept that way.

She hadn't slept at all, despite the warmth.

He was coming near her again; she turned abruptly and moved away. "Start a fire," she ordered.

He'd do it. The past few days, since the fight, he'd been... not so much obedient as distracted. He seemed to be thinking about something else most of the time. Tifa had missed the silence between them in the desert after the Gold Saucer; now the silence was disturbing and she missed his near-constant argument.

The worst part was that she thought that she could guess why he was so... obliging, since the fight. She'd laid there under his arm that first night after and had tried hard to remember everything, trying to place what had changed, and could find only one explanation.

She'd seen Cloud. She'd been dying, and had hallucinated Cloud. And she'd told Cloud that she loved him.

Cloud hadn't actually been there to hear her... but Loz had.

Tifa didn't know what to do. She couldn't confront him - what if that wasn't why he was acting this way at all? Or what if the mere act of asking made him realize that her words hadn't been for him? He was so much more controllable this way, and she didn't now if she could survive him berserk and intent upon killing her again.

The house was as secure as AVALANCHE had been able to make it, and fully stocked, with rations hidden beneath loose floorboards and blankets stored in a combination-locked cabinet. Costa del Sol had still been one of the more civilized places left on the Planet, last she'd heard - locks could still keep all but the most desperate out.

There were several bottles amongst the rations - Strong Cosmo Canyon wine. Tifa let slip a small, rueful smile. The wine must've been Barrett's doing, and she couldn't thank him enough for it, because she knew...

After that first night, Loz had simply taken to sleeping with his arm over her, and she didn't dare try to stop him. Last night, she'd even fallen asleep herself, much to her consternation upon waking. The exhaustion had simply been too much. But she could see no reason to expect him to leave her alone now.

Especially not with what was coming. She set a few ration packets and water and a bottle of wine on the floor in front of the fire place, where Loz was crouched, coaxing flames higher. Tifa could feel the warmth already, and held her hand near the flames for a moment, surprised as always at how strongly her body screamed for the comfort of heat.

She took a deep breath, but was unable to speak the first time, her voice refusing to leave her throat. She tried again with more success. "Undress," she commanded softly. "Spread your clothes out so they dry." She felt like she was trying to defend the logic of her actions to herself, despite it being obvious.

He paused in his motions, glancing up at her with a questioning sound.

"Still not treating you for hypothermia," she attempted to clarify, refusing to look in his direction. Her voice came out as a flat growl.

"Hn." Loz sounded entirely too amused, and she heard him beginning to work at his clothing.

After a moment, she raised her hand to her shoulder and began to pry at the buckle of the shoulder armor that had once been Cloud's. Her movements were slow - she could barely force herself to purposely become vulnerable in his presence, and she kept her gaze on the fire, on the food on the floor, on the corner of the fireplace... anywhere but at Loz.

When she was down to her underwear, she quickly moved to the cabinet with the blankets and drew out three - a thick comforter for the floor in front of the fireplace, and two heavy blankets for them to wrap themselves in. She held hers tightly around her like a cocoon as soon as her hands were free to do so. The setup probably seemed like an invitation to Loz, but really, she was too chilled to consider leaving the area of the fire right now.

The meal was quiet, but he sat near her, still quiet but clearly relaxing as they warmed. Tifa kept her eyes resolutely on the fire. The food sat heavy in her stomach, unsettled by the dread of knowing what was going to happen. She could sense it coming; there was no reason for him to stop himself.

The bottle of wine was clutched in her hand, its cork somewhere on the floor with the discarded ration packaging. She was uncomfortably aware that she was drinking out of desperation, but she didn't know what else she could do to dull the panic.

She didn't dare try to stop him, if she wanted to maintain control. She knew she couldn't do this any more. He'd kill her if they fought again - it had been sheer luck that had saved her the last time. He'd been hunting her for years. A few weeks ago he'd nearly crushed her windpipe while his brothers brought down the Orbital City. Days ago, he'd done the same - strangled her until she'd lost consciousness. He'd tried to kill her over and over, when he was too overtaken with blood-lust to stop. And when he wasn't...

Part of her just wanted to get this over with, she realized.

She took a long swig from the bottle, cursing her own alcohol tolerance. Her chances of drinking enough to pass out were fairly low, and no way was she going to see if Loz could drink enough instead. He could have the water.

He shifted closer, his blanket wrapped around him considerably more loosely than hers, and held out a hand. Unable to stop herself, Tifa finally looked at him, and struggled to keep her features impassive. The wooden beams of the house creaked under a roar of wind, the hiss of rain on the walls ebbing and flowing like the waves beyond the seawall.

She reconsidered, the bottle partway to her lips again. The fight in Wooddell hadn't actually been the beer's fault, after all. And... this... would be easier, maybe, if he drank. It'd make him less energetic. Well, she could hope, anyway.

So she finished her drink and handed him the bottle, and tried to avoid touching his hand as he took it from her.

She turned away and shivered again, glancing about the room. AVALANCHE had bought this place back before the world had broken. She remembered Nanaki nosing curiously under the bar; Cid settling down at the desk to write out a postcard for Shera and yelling when she'd bumped the desk; Barrett eyeing himself in the mirror in that ridiculous sailor suit, laughing about how Marlene would think it was cute, when he thought nobody was watching...

Loz grunted and shoved the bottle back at her. It was significantly lighter than it had been. She took it back, but stared at it instead of drinking.

He moved again, closer; this time, he twisted, his right arm coming down behind her. With his left he braced himself, his hand on the floor in the small space he left between them. Her own hands tightened on the blanket she held around her, and on the bottle. She could smash it over his head, maybe... but then what? She'd nowhere to run. And when he caught her, it'd be far worse than this.

It never crossed her mind to kill him, and it didn't occur to her to wonder why. The voice that had told her to keep him alive, back in the crashed pod in the desert canyon, had never been questioned.

He leaned in, head tilted, to nuzzle at her jaw. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth and swallowed, as tense as though she were being studied by a predator about to tear her throat out. His nose was cool against the skin just under her jaw, and his lips a little warmer.

She tried to control her breathing.

"Want you." He touched his lips to her throat again, his left arm crossing over her to rest on her opposite hip, only the blankets between their bodies. "Been waiting."

The words pierced through her and she opened her eyes, but tried to keep the fear from her expression. She'd expected this, been certain that it was inevitable for days, but now that it was here she didn't know if she could go through with it. The full knowledge of what he was and all that he'd done suddenly weighed on her as though she were at the bottom of an ocean.

She wanted to be able to slow him down, to insult him, to argue with him. Tell him she'd noticed and wasn't impressed. But her voice was caught in her throat. She worked her mouth several times before she could make any sound come out. "L-Loz..."

Her voice was drowned out by another surge of the storm outside, and she didn't know if he heard her. He was at her throat again, his lips brushing up to her ear; his hand on her hip pulled them closer together. Her grip on the blanket around her tightened again reflexively.

She knew. She knew that he'd killed beyond counting, snapped bones for the entertainment of hearing screams and knowing he'd caused them, destroyed without thought or care. She knew how he and his family chose humans as playthings - women, boys, whatever they wanted - and she knew what almost invariably happened to those people.

She remembered his gaze, so similar to the look he gave her now, as he'd pressed the knife into her skin until it broke and bled and then he'd dragged the blade through -

Of course she knew. He'd never been able to hide it, not since he'd first fought her years ago, and she hated that about him more than anything else.

Her heart was pounding, her breath coming faster, and she wanted to fight him off. She wanted to strike and shove and get away.

"Want you to like it," he murmured, so low that were he not so close to her ear, she wouldn't have heard him over the dull roar of the storm outside. The bottle slipped from her numbed fingers and rolled on the hardwood floor, too empty to spill, as a wave of creaking timbers passed through the building again.

It was probably the kindest-meant thing he'd ever said to her, she reflected. She couldn't bring herself to say anything in response. She simply tilted her head, letting him have as much access to her throat as he wanted.

Instinct said that if she couldn't get away, it would hurt less if she didn't fight. It was only her body that he wanted, same as always. It wasn't any worse than damage from battle and it didn't have to mean anything. If she let him have her, he'd be easier to control. He wouldn't be so annoying after - at worst, he'd just want more.

Maybe if she'd let him do this before, nothing would've happened in Wooddell - they'd never have gone to the inn. Maybe he would've obeyed her in the Gold Saucer and they could've left without ever staying. Zhai could've smuggled supplies out to them. Maybe.

She tried to stop thinking, because there were tears prickling in her eyes. If she broke now, she'd never be able to control Loz again - she'd be nothing, the same as every other human he'd broken. And he'd never stop.

It was only her body. It wasn't as though it mattered. She'd been cut and healed and cut again over and over and her body didn't matter any more.

She still shuddered under his hands as he shifted, moving her like a doll, sliding his hand up under the blanket and over her side and her back. He held them together while his lips closed over her ear.

She trembled. She couldn't help it.

She hated herself for letting him have any kind of response. But it struck her that he'd be quicker about this if she appeared to enjoy it at all, if that was what he wanted, like he'd said. Not that she could bring herself to put on much of a performance...

Tifa tried to relax and calm her trembling. Maybe, maybe, if she closed her eyes, she could make herself believe that it was Cloud holding her and touching her and -

Her head was suddenly jerked back a little, Loz's hand tightening in her hair, and she let slip an involuntary gasp as he licked along the underside of her jaw. She couldn't help trembling now, eyes opening a little. She stared at the timbered ceiling and tried to listen to only the storm battering the walls and not the small, deep sounds that Loz made.

Very slowly, she forced her hand to uncurl from the blanket - letting it fall away further - and reached up. She felt him twitch under her fingers as she finally laid her hand on his upper arm, slowly pushing up to his shoulder.

He'd pulled her half into his lap, and with the arm that was no longer supporting him at her back, he pushed aside her blanket further. He soon had her free of it, his hand brushing over her skin, pausing only to tug at or dig under the edges of her remaining clothing.

She realized that his eyes were closed, as he licked and nipped at her throat and jaw and ears and collarbone. The glimpse of his face, somehow disturbingly innocent in expression as he focused so intently on her, was enough to convince her to close her own eyes again. Her arms were folded against his chest, one hand at his shoulder and the other flat against his skin, but the way she was trapped didn't matter; the odd quiver in her limbs would have prevented her from fighting anyway.

He moved her head again, roughly pulling her to him and covering her mouth with his own.

His heated tongue more than made up for still-cool skin. He tasted of nothing but wine and rations, and Tifa wondered why she'd expected something else. Somehow she'd always thought he'd taste of blood.

She couldn't do it. She'd never get through this trying to imagine Cloud in Loz's place. Cloud would never have been like this with her - he'd always been far too uncertain - and he'd never have felt like this under her hands, solid and demanding.

Cloud would never have done this to her.

She couldn't breathe. His kiss hurt; the moment her tongue twitched against his he crushed their lips together further. Tifa finally gave a panicked little sound, twisting away and gasping, a momentary sense of self-preservation overriding her will to remain in control.

He was breathing hard too, as soon as the contact was broken, but he didn't let her move far. He was at her throat again in less than a second, sucking and biting harder this time, his attentions growing more urgent. She whimpered again, turning her head the other way; he pulled back for a moment. It felt as though his entire body pressed close to hers was warming stone.

And then he was pushing her to the side and down, twisting her onto her back, and roughly shoving aside her undergarments without entirely removing them. Some twisted instinct had Tifa kick away some of her clothing herself, but she thought she could make herself believe that it was to preserve the material, lest it be torn apart.

Eyes open now, Tifa stared at the broad, calloused hands running over her torso, trying not to struggle. Dread bordering on terror surged through her again, accompanied by small sounds that she didn't want to believe were whimpers. She tried to imagine that it wasn't her. This was happening to someone else. She didn't even have to watch -

He leaned low over her, licking at her ear, bracing himself with one hand while the other still smoothed heavily over her skin. "Gonna fuck you," he breathed, biting again and shoving at the remaining blankets around them to clear his way. "We can play more later. Can't wait."

Tifa tried not to panic all over again, instead attempting to draw him closer so that she could look over his shoulder instead of _at_ him. Her limbs felt like they were liquid, her heart pounding in her chest, and _there was nothing she could do_. She didn't dare. Not now.

He licked at her again and pulled back, all restrained power and expectation. He was _enthralled_. Disgust tried to spark within her at the fact that he would be so captivated by this base act, but she was too resigned for the anger to take hold.

And then he was working at her with still-cold fingers, and she didn't have the will to even form such questions. She bit back through gritted teeth a demand for him to stop, closing her eyes again.

She had to do this. She had to make him think that this was what she wanted even if she was scared. She had to make her body cooperate.

She tried to focus purely on what he was doing to her physically. Maybe she could simply make herself forget who he was, who she was; forget all the things he'd done. He was _good_ at this, physically, right? He'd had plenty of practice.

It helped a little. She could get through this if she kept her eyes closed and focused entirely on what he was doing.

She found herself noticeably shaking as he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself. Her hands found his shoulders again, and she was half tempted to push him away, but instead ran fingers down the taut skin of his arms, trying to focus completely on how he _felt_.

At least she was pretty sure that he wasn't _trying_ to hurt her. It still hurt, when he pushed inside her, and she couldn't stop the sounds she made and couldn't stop herself from tensing and kicking at the floor in desperation, but hurting her didn't seem to be his goal.

"T-tight," he hissed, mostly to himself, eyes closed. He steadied himself, breathing labored, and lowered himself close over her so that he rested on his elbows. His lips were against hers again as he rocked against her, but it was he who broke the kiss this time, turning to lean his head over her shoulder. Small sounds escaped his lips between pants.

Tifa slid her arms around his back and clung to him, for lack of anything else to hang on to as everything slipped away. He wasn't forcing her. All the horrible things he'd done and he wasn't the one forcing her. _She_ was forcing _herself_.

Maybe this would get to feel better as time went on. It already felt better now than it had; the way he moved did seem... good... Or like it could be good...

He groaned her name and she squeezed her eyes shut, legs parted wide for him.

She kept her hold on him, keeping her head over his shoulder, when the sounds he made became louder and his movements became faster until they stopped all together but for his trembling. Tifa opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering at the feel of skin and muscle twitching under her hands. Even when the escape pod from the orbital station had crashed and he'd been near death, she'd not felt him like this when she'd laid hands on him. She wasn't sure if it was terrifying or exhilarating.

When his breathing eased, he heavily pushed himself to one side, leaving her caught between him and the fire. The blanket under them was damp with sweat and things that Tifa didn't want to think about, and her legs, as she slowly straightened, were shaking far more than she'd realized.

He pawed at her, roughly turning her head toward him to kiss her once more, then moving his hand down to rub across her breasts. She tried to bring herself to respond somehow, but could only let her hands lay on him and let him kiss her. The kiss was much less vicious this time - tasting instead of consuming.

At least she wasn't so chilled any more.

She dared push at him a little, drawing back. "I should... clean up," she murmured. She didn't make eye contact. She wanted free, so that she could hide and sob and claw his scent from herself.

"Tomorrow," Loz suggested, his arms around her moving less and less.

Tifa shifted uncomfortably, her nose wrinkling a bit, the most expression she could allow herself. "I'm a mess."

"I like messy," he mumbled into her hair. He pulled her close, slipping one thigh between hers as though offering to share. As though that made it all right.

She didn't have the energy to struggle any more, and went limp again as he pulled one of the dry blankets over them. It was reasonably comfortable like this, at least, if she didn't think too much about it.

"Never really did it before, did you?" He murmured, nuzzling at her. "You'll like it more later. It gets better."

Tifa managed to wait until his breathing evened out in sleep before the tears slipped from her eyes.

Outside, the storm only continued, the world oblivious to all that had happened.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	18. Pain In Any Language

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is from the song "Pain in Any Language" by Apollo 440.

* * *

**(18: Pain in Any Language)**

* * *

Tifa wasn't sure if she was relieved or not, when the next few days proved less grueling than she'd expected.

She'd known, as soon as she'd awoken to hear the storm still raging, that even if Vincent still came here, it would likely be days before contact could be made. No airship could approach until the storm broke, and she doubted that he'd come any other way. And that was provided he'd not been and gone already, or simply assumed that she was dead after the fall of the Gold Saucer.

So she'd resigned herself to being trapped alone with Loz for the duration of the storm, at least. There was very little to do, other than read the books left in the beach house. As she'd come to expect, however, Loz had other distinct ideas about how they could pass the time.

He pressed against her back, the blankets drawn close around them, his languid movements as near-sated as she'd yet experienced - as though he moved against her more as a matter of course than out of need. The bed they'd taken in the small bedroom annex creaked softly with each shifting of his body. It seemed as though he couldn't (or wouldn't) stop himself entirely until he was completely exhausted.

Tifa tried to keep from flinching at each tired breath that seared the back of her neck.

Gradually his breathing slowed, his movements becoming more sporadic, until he was still and she was certain that he'd fallen asleep. Even so, she made no move to rise from the bed; there was nowhere to go, and at least here, there was comfortable warmth.

Just how comfortable it was becoming frightened her, if she allowed herself to think about it. It shouldn't be comfortable at all, she knew, but she hadn't the strength to fight any more. At least this way she wasn't being hunted or threatened and she wasn't cold and hungry. This way, right now, she could rest.

She leaned her bare shoulders back into his broad chest, closing her eyes. She couldn't make herself forget who he was, but what was the point in trying? Who else knew her so intimately?

_...The drag of blade through flesh, skin pulling away, fingers underneath..._

The wind picked up again outside, gentled rain beginning to lash once more. Tifa shivered, tensing involuntarily, her eyes open but staring listlessly at the wall of the dim room.

Loz's arm that lay loose over her waist tightened; after a moment, his hand smoothed up across her, coming to rest just at the base of her rib cage, nearly over her heart. Her heartbeat quickened a little. So he _would_ stop before he was finished, even without falling asleep.

But her heartbeat quickened further when he spoke.

"What are you thinking about?"

There was nothing to fear at this point. Eventually he'd kill her or she'd kill him, and before that... well, the worst had already been done, so what did it matter if it happened again? So there was no reason to lie.

"I was thinking about what you did to me before," she said quietly.

His tone told her that he'd completely misinterpreted what she'd said. She could hear the smile in his voice. "Yeah?"

Her voice went flat and cold. "Longer before. In the tower."

"Oh."

He went still and quiet again, but she didn't look over her shoulder to see him. He'd sounded... disappointed. She could barely feel any satisfaction from it; she could hardly bring herself to feel anything at all. Feeling only meant that she'd hurt.

Loz suddenly moved, releasing her and rolling away and sliding out from under the blankets. It was surprising enough that Tifa raised her head a little, but he didn't look back as he left the room, and she said nothing. After a moment, she settled down again, drawing the blankets up over her shoulder and cursing herself for missing his warmth.

He returned a few minutes later, and Tifa's eyes widened - he carried one of the larger knives that had been hidden with the provisions when they'd arrived. She abruptly sat upright, drawing her knees up and preparing to try to defend herself.

But he only watched her, and flipped the knife in his hand as he approached, extending it toward her handle-first. Offering it to her.

Her lips parted as she regarded him suspiciously. She only realized that she was clutching the blankets around herself when she reached out for the knife.

His expression was passive, though his lips drew a little wider, not quite smiling, when she took the blade. He knelt on the floor at the side of the bed, resting his hands on his naked thighs, keeping his gaze on her. The house creaked under a gust of wind, the hiss of rain making his next words almost inaudible.

"Do it."

Tifa frowned in suspicion, the knife in a loose grip in one hand and the blankets still held over her chest with the other. "Do what?"

"You know." He nodded toward the knife. "What I did to you." He shrugged. "You can cast Petrify or something if I move too much. I don't mind."

Her heart was beating fast again, harder this time, but she closed her mouth and looked at the knife in her hand instead of at him. Her expression turned as cold as the blade.

The floorboards were colder still under her bare feet as she slipped out of the bed. Head held high, she walked around him, and felt a rush of power as he bowed his head and simply waited, patient and unafraid.

But she wanted him to be afraid. She wanted to hurt him. She thought of carving skin away from muscle, meat from bone, as he'd done to her. She dreamed of simply stabbing him, over and over as fast as punching. She imagined standing at his back, skin against skin, and cradling his chin in her hand to lift his head up as she slit his throat.

The house creaked again, wind roaring.

She thought of his blood slicking the floor, pooled and cooling.

It wouldn't matter. Loz still had the Heal Materia. She could do whatever she wanted to him and he'd survive, at least for a while. She wondered if he would let her keep going until he was too low on magic to cast Cure on himself any more.

He twitched as the edge of the knife touched his back; the twitch became an uncontrollable shiver as she pressed down. Tifa stared in fascination as there was a sudden give, the tension of skin broken, and jewel red welled up around the disappearing tip of the blade. She heard Loz take a breath and hold it for a moment before exhaling.

Her own tremulous breath seemed loud as she began to drag the knife through him. One inch, two, flesh parting in a thin line of scarlet. The blade seemed to catch on something and Loz twitched again, making a small sound before the catch gave and the blade moved on. Drops of blood slipped free from the cut, drawing wider lines of red as they flowed down his back.

She remembered Cloud's voice telling her that she had to keep Loz alive, back in the escape pod. It seemed so long ago...

She remembered the way Loz had screamed, when he'd awoken with the bones of his leg stabbed out through his flesh.

She remembered the way he'd turned his head aside - the moment of utter misery, when she'd asked if his brothers would cry for him if she simply killed him.

Abruptly, Tifa yanked the knife away, flinging it aside; it clattered to the floor. She pushed herself back until her shoulders hit the wall, and drew her knees up and curled with her hands over her face, and tried not to sob. "I can't..." She gulped a breath that seemed far too loud, and her hands were wet, but she swore she wasn't crying. She raised her head and caught only a glimpse of Loz before turning aside, holding her breath to suppress the rebellious sobs as tears cooled on her cheeks. He'd twisted where he sat, staring at her in clear confusion.

"But..." Loz was still staring at her. "But I said it was okay."

"It's not!" she nearly snapped, hiding her face again. "It's not okay. I'm not like that, I'm not like you, I can't be like you."

Tifa stared at the door of the bedroom and wondered how quickly the storm would kill her if she ran naked from the house. She could go into the sea, maybe feel the sand between her toes before the waves crushed her against the sea-wall...

"Why not?"

She looked up once more, letting her head thump against the wall at her back. Loz was sitting opposite her now, his position mirroring hers, with his arms resting on his knees. The fingers of his right hand trembled a little; he mustn't have healed the cut yet. She knew she'd gone deeper than she'd originally meant to.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to whisper, "I don't know. I just can't." There were fresh tears coursing down her face, but she was still, doing nothing to stop them. After a moment, she managed to make her voice work again, though it cracked weakly. "Why do you want me to?"

Loz didn't move, but his expression froze, the confusion turning inward. He actually seemed to think about it for another long moment before whispering, "I don't know."

There was nothing to listen to but the storm for a few minutes. Tifa closed her eyes again and tilted her head back, struggling to control herself. It got easier; the wave of frustration and horror ebbed, leaving a dull emptiness in its wake.

He seemed to simply study her again for a while after that, as though he were thinking. Or trying to - she wasn't sure how much credit she should give him, really. He didn't heal the cut on his back until she reminded him to, and that was only after he'd gotten blood on the blankets. Not that it really mattered.

It was strange - when he pulled her back to the bed, he only held her and slept, and nothing else. She wasn't sure what to make of it, after the way he'd behaved the days since their arrival at the beach house.

Not that it lasted. He was on her again by morning.

Tifa was reasonably certain that it was the beginning of the fifth day when she awoke to a startling silence.

She lay still for a little while, listening, before she realized that there was light coming through the cracks between the boards over the windows. The harder she concentrated on listening, the less silent it seemed - she could faintly hear the hiss of waves on sand and the sound of birdsong.

The storm had broken.

It took a few minutes more before she could extricate herself from Loz and the bed without, so far as she could tell, waking him. He only shifted a little, when she drew her arm from beneath his head.

So help her, she was growing used to him...

It wasn't until she'd emerged from the bath, reasonably clothed, that she looked up and into the common room. At first she caught only a glimpse of red, as she looked out from under the towel she was drying her hair with, but she stopped in mid-motion and her eyes went wide.

"Vincent!"

For a split second she felt relieved, but that faded almost immediately. How long had he been here...?

"Tifa." He stood - he'd been seated next to the front door, wrapped entirely in his crimson cloak, as though to keep warm. "It was not my intention to disturb you."

Long enough. It was always so difficult to tell Vincent's moods, but she thought that she detected disgust in his voice. Or perhaps she was simply hearing what she thought she should hear...

It didn't matter. Her gaze fell, her face going red. She felt inexplicably as though she'd been caught misbehaving somehow, rather than attempting to maintain some sort of control over her prisoner. "Vincent, I..."

There was a rushed series of thumps, and Loz suddenly appeared, hanging on to the frame of the bedroom door and leaning out. He blinked blearily at Tifa once, then turned his attention to Vincent, eyes narrowing. "What's _he_ doing here?"

Tifa swallowed back her words of contrition to Vincent, her features hardening. She'd made her decision - now she had to live with it. "Picking us up, what'd you expect?" she snapped, turning on her heel to return the damp towel to the bathroom.

Loz grunted, his gaze falling to the gun at Vincent's hip as the cloaked man took a few steps forward and the cape swirled aside. "Then what?"

Tifa scowled as she left the bathroom again. "_Now_ you ask -" she stopped abruptly. "Loz. Put some clothes on." She tried to keep what composure she could, given that she knew she had to be blushing even worse now.

"Right." Loz disappeared back into the bedroom, only to lean out again a moment later.

"...Where _are_ my clothes?"

To his credit, Vincent only turned away, his face as stony as ever.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	19. I'll Always Be Alone If I'm Lying To You

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Take My Hand" by Dido.

* * *

**(19: I'll Always Be Alone If I'm Lying To You)**

* * *

The forest had taken in so much water from the storm that it may as well have been still raining beneath the canopy. Leaves constantly dripped, trees that had fallen across the path to the airship field had to be skirted, and mud sucked at her boots once again.

And Tifa didn't care.

The tiny hope that Vincent represented buoyed her up just enough to keep the damp from eating away at her the way it had been while she traveled with Loz alone. At the end of this short trek, she'd be on the _Highwind_, and be able to be clean and dry again. If Loz bolted or tried to attack, Vincent was there to help her. If she fell, he'd help her up. She wasn't alone any more.

For the moment, anyway.

"We were not certain of what happened to you, after the Gold Saucer," Vincent was explaining, his voice so low and even that it seemed lulling when combined with the soft taps of drops of water among the foliage. "We knew that you survived -"

Tifa looked up from watching her footing, unconsciously twisting the rope that led to Loz's bound wrists in her hands. He'd _let_ her bind his hands this time. "How could you be so sure?" she asked, her voice nearly as low. It seemed almost as though it would be sacrilege to speak more loudly in the stillness left in the hurricane's wake.

Vincent paused and looked back at her. "Marlene." He turned and kept walking, picking his way over a fallen tree trunk. Mud spattered the golden greaves over his boots. "She was certain. She believes that she hears... Aeris. And she has never yet been wrong."

Her hands tightened on the rope. Vincent was too forgiving of such delusions, to the point of sounding as though he believed them. She supposed that it didn't matter; one took hope where one could, even if it was illusory.

She refrained from pointing out that Marlene had also predicted, via "Aeris", that Reeve would awaken from the coma that Yazoo had left him in when he'd broken into Reeve's connection to Cait Sith. Theoretically, of course, it was possible - Reeve wasn't dead - but it just didn't seem likely, given how much damage had been done. Even Cure spells could only do so much, after a certain point. Regardless... it hadn't happened yet. She'd already asked.

"In any case," Vincent went on, giving no indication that he'd noticed Tifa's troubled silence, "When we saw the smoke in the mountains we headed that way. We found the ruins of a lumber town that seemed to have burned; any survivors seemed to have left, presumably for one of the other settlements in the area. We were about to leave when we found the chocobos."

This time Tifa's head snapped up, and she was about to speak, but Loz beat her to it. "You found my chocobo?" He exclaimed. His voice was entirely too loud in the cathedral forest.

Tifa shot him an annoyed look over her shoulder; since when had it been ihis?/i

Vincent was watching them with a carefully impassive expression again. "We found a few chocobos, one of which was a racer from the Gold Saucer. They were still corralled in the remains of a stable behind what must have been the inn. It's a miracle that they survived." He looked directly at Loz. "We let them go."

Loz's lower lip slid out in a distinct pout, and his shoulders slumped and he looked away, but he didn't say anything.

The ex-Turk seemed to accept Loz's reaction as appropriate, and continued. "There was a pack nearby with what were most certainly your belongings. We took it and came here, as you were clearly headed in this direction as planned. However, we had to wait for the storm to ease before we could land."

"I see," Tifa responded. She couldn't think of anything else to say. Vincent was perfectly aware of what had happened to her in his absence, though she hadn't gone into detail. She'd have to tell him everything later.

The light brightened as they continued, and soon the edge of the woods became visible. The path led into an open, bright field - dotted with fallen branches and other debris - and there, in the center, rested the _Highwind_.

And just outside its gondola, standing together on the grass, were two people that Tifa had never expected to see again.

"Tifa!" Lia shouted and waved, and looked as though she were about to sprint forward to meet them, but Zhai caught her shoulder and brought her up short as Loz emerged from the forest as well. A distressed expression flitted across Lia's face for only a moment before she smiled again, albeit a little more weakly this time.

Finally letting go of the lead rope with one hand, Tifa waved back, but the motion was muted. It was nearly enough to break her down to tears again, to see them alive. So she had indeed glimpsed the _Highwind_ at the Gold Saucer as it fell - Cid had come close enough to rescue their friends.

"I'm sorry," Tifa said softly to Lia and Zhai when she was close enough, almost unable to control her voice. She cleared her throat before continuing. "I -" _I'm sorry I put you in danger. I'm sorry I ruined your life. Again._ "I lost your cloak," she finally finished lamely, addressing Lia. She couldn't look Zhai in the face.

The girl only smiled broadly. "Oh, that old thing. Don't worry about it!" she said airily, clearly hoping to make Tifa laugh. Tifa wasn't sure that she could ever laugh again, but she could smile, even if it was nearly an involuntary reaction.

But the smile died quickly - Tifa remembered a brief time when Yuffie would have been so friendly and eager. And Yuffie, after Tifa's call from the orbital city, seemed to have abandoned AVALANCHE entirely; Vincent had said that the last they'd heard from her, she'd been going alone to talk to Rufus Shinra. She no longer responded to their calls.

Once inside, Lia and Zhai - though they were both clearly happy to see Tifa again - splintered away to head for the bridge, Zhai with several concerned looks thrown over his shoulder. Cid greeted them (if you could call it that) by slamming the door behind them and leading them directly to a holding cell for Loz, where Barrett was already waiting, after a call from Vincent earlier. Barrett barely spoke a word, but seemed to visibly relax when he saw Tifa alive and whole.

With Loz secured in one of the smaller rooms, the thick door bolted and Barrett guarding it, Tifa proceeded to the bridge. As soon as they were presumably out of earshot of the door, Cid ceased to hold his tongue.

"I want that _thing_ off my airship as soon as possible," he spat, his glance at Tifa just shy of a full-on glare. "Goddamned bastard's a disaster waiting to happen. My family's on board, you understand?" He rounded fully on Tifa. "Why the hell ain't he dead yet?"

The color had drained from Tifa's face as soon as Cid had mentioned his family. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"He's more useful alive," Vincent answered for her, laying a gloved hand on her shoulder before she could break down further. "He's not uncontrollable, Highwind."

"Says you," Cid snorted. "I've seen him when he gets his blood up." He nodded to Tifa, his expression more stern than condemning. "You think you can handle him?"

Tifa lifted her head, taking a deep breath. "I have so far," she said, trying hard to keep her gaze steady as she looked Cid in the eye.

She was successful. "Yeah?" Cid's eyes narrowed, but searching Tifa's face didn't reveal the lack of confidence he'd expected from her, after the past several years. There was something a little different about her now - different than there had been even on the space station. He finally nodded with another snort. "Keep it up," he admonished, before turning and leading the way through the narrow corridors to the bridge. He moved a little stiffly - his muscles still hadn't completely readjusted to having to work within gravity again.

She thought of the dubious look Loz had given her when she'd silently taken the ropes from his wrists and left him in the small room. It seemed that Loz wasn't the only one she was going to have to deceive.

It felt good, at least a little, to sit and watch the storm-littered field fall away as the _Highwind_ lifted off. It was always easier to relax when airborne. Threats were visible from further away.

Marlene, cuddling Cait Sith - the robotic puppet now no more than a stuffed animal - arrived on the bridge and sat down next to Tifa without preamble. The boy that had been near her on the space station, Denzel, trailed after her, but only leaned against a strut ten feet away and came no closer.

The girl leaned against Tifa, and the vial of Mako that she wore as a pendant swung and bumped into Tifa's arm, glowing faintly. Neither of them said a word for a while.

Finally Marlene broke the silence. "We're going to go by Elmyra's new place, in the Bone Village," she said quietly. "Reeve's there with his and Denzel's mom. Dad said it'd be safer for us to stay there."

Tifa looked down at the way Marlene held the toy cat close to her gray sweater, almost like a child. What had happened to Reeve had hit her hard - she probably felt that it was at least partially her fault. "I didn't know that Denzel was Reeve's brother," the woman said quietly. She'd never met the boy before the space station.

Marlene looked up and smiled a little. "He's not. He lost his family back when the plate fell in Midgar. Reeve's mom Ruvie took him in."

Of course. Just like Barrett had taken Marlene in when she'd lost her parents. In the state the world was in now, families were defined by bonds, not by blood, Tifa thought.

She remembered Loz. _Most_ families, at least...

"We're going to get married," Marlene went on, still smiling as she looked down again. She spoke quietly enough that the boy probably couldn't hear, but he glanced over now and then, and likely would see her blushing.

Tifa blinked. "You... are?"

"When we're old enough," Marlene hastily amended. "We talked about it. Denzel wants to protect me." She hugged the cat closer, as though it might help contain her excitement.

"That's sweet," Tifa murmured, though her slight smile didn't quite reach her eyes. All she could think about was sitting on the water tower in Nibelheim with Cloud, extracting his promise to come to her rescue.

Marlene looked up at her again and grinned. "Dad kinda freaked when I told him."

The admission made Tifa smile a little more. "Well, you are kind of, you know. Eight."

"Oh, I know," Marlene nodded. "Not like it's _tomorrow_ though, right? Plenty of time to grow up first."

Tifa glanced out at the still somewhat sickly land that they skimmed over and tried to let herself hope that Marlene was right.

"Perhaps you children should see to our next meal," a new, gentle voice suggested, the masculine tones as even and muted as Vincent's had been in the forest. "There is much for the adults to discuss."

Marlene sat up straight and rolled her eyes at Tifa before hopping to her feet. Tifa watched her move off to join Denzel, who was visibly bristling at being called a child, though he was obviously only a few years older than Marlene. Evidently, the end of the world could not deter the struggles of adolescence.

"It is good to see you so... well," the voice continued, and Tifa glanced down to make eye contact with the rust-furred creature that approached.

"Nanaki," she greeted, a little leery of how his flame-tail lashed despite the calm tone of his voice. "I thought... that you would have gone with Yuffie." The two had grown close, become each other's confidants, over the past few years.

Nanaki seemed to attempt to shrug. It wasn't a gesture native to his kind - rather, something he'd picked up after joining the humanoid group - and it looked strange on the quadruped's frame. "I will see her again," he said with simple confidence. "Her temper bests her, but her heart is true. She'll come round."

There seemed, to Tifa, to be an edge to his voice that belied his reassuring words... but perhaps her journey alone with Loz had somehow altered her perceptions. At least Nanaki was polite enough to fail to mention how much she must reek of Loz's scent. She thought it must be impossible that he wouldn't notice.

"I hope so," she answered softly, before looking up toward the main area of the bridge. Vincent looked back at her, watching.

She stood. "I suppose it's time to talk," she said, steeling herself.

"Indeed," Nanaki responded. "You have a story to tell." His tail flickered as he looked down, before Tifa could try to draw any more meaning out of his words than the obvious. "But you may want to remove your boots, lest Shera wish to have words with you. She runs a clean ship."

Tifa glanced down at the drying mud on her boots and involuntarily smiled again.

* * *

It was a busy day, and the first day in many that Tifa did not see Loz. She did not see him, she did not think of him any more than she could help, and the tension in her shoulders eased. She began to feel again that maybe, just maybe, she could withstand the consequences of her actions. For a while, at least.

She really didn't know what to do with Loz now. Certainly, with him as hostage, AVALANCHE had the upper hand over Jenova - but how long would that last? They hadn't reached any decision. They'd decided only to proceed to the Bone Village to drop off the children and Shera and Lia and Zhai in relative safety, and try to figure out what to do along the way.

Vincent took dinner to Loz, and took Barrett's place guarding the door, after which Tifa spent a few hours talking with Barrett. He didn't refrain from hugging her this time, not even after he relayed that Loz kept demanding to know where she was, after the first few hours in the room.

She'd left details out of her account of her time with Loz, but she was sure that most of the missing information was guessed. And yet she was not, so far as she could tell, condemned. It was a little reassuring. When she'd been alone with Loz, she had been unable to imagine her companions forgiving her for resorting to such tactics with him. But her companions were her friends, even after all she'd been through and all she'd put them through. They were no more inclined to forsake her now than they'd ever been.

When she bid Barrett good night, Tifa returned to a room that Vincent had shown her earlier, where they'd left the pack from the chocobos. For another half hour she went through the pack, carefully inspecting her armor and spare weapons, and sorting Loz's weapons and armor back into the bundle.

After that, she tried to sleep.

She lay alone in her bunk, with only the dark to hold her, for a good twenty minutes. Thousands of thoughts swirled in her mind with all the force of the hurricane that had so recently dissipated.

She should have killed him. She'd had so much opportunity, but she'd wasted it, opting to try to control him through his... his stupid juvenile obsession with her instead.

He'd acted to preserve her more than once, even if she was sure that he only wanted to keep her alive for himself.

When he berserked he was destruction incarnate, a danger to everyone and everything around him. She didn't even know if he had any memory of what he did once the bloodlust took hold.

He'd been more stable in the past several days, after he'd nearly killed her, after she let him have her, than she'd ever seen before. He obeyed her right down to offering his wrists for her to bind and walking into his cell of his own accord. Not docile, but obedient, at least so far as being a prisoner was concerned. He hadn't been like that before, when they'd crash-landed...

Could he really be so willing to trade his freedom for her body? It hardly made sense to her, but if that was all it took...

What did that say about his bonds to his family, then?

He'd hurt her, over and over. He was terrifying, a monster, and he wouldn't leave her alone.

He was predictable, when he wasn't berserking, and that was oddly comforting. He was disturbingly human, in some ways - he hurt as much as anyone and didn't seem to know how to bury it like most people did. The world and all its jaded pain were still new to him.

And he wouldn't leave her.

He'd taken pleasure in hurting her. She couldn't shake the unnerving idea that he'd found torturing her to be as intimate as sex.

He wasn't human. She wasn't sure that he had any way of knowing that what he'd done wasn't right.

Except that he'd apologized, after a fashion, for torturing her. He'd said it wasn't his idea, as though that made it all right.

To his simplistic view of reality, maybe it did.

Tifa stared at the ceiling in the darkness, a little moonlight showing through the portal in the wall as the clouds outside skimmed by. Cold light for a cold room. She shivered.

She'd gotten used to his warmth and to having the weight of him near. She'd had the thought, during the hurricane, that at least if the building collapsed, she'd be protected from the debris by his body. She wondered now if he'd thought of that as well.

But what it really came down to, she knew, was that he'd called out for her already. If she didn't go to him and he decided to start wreaking havoc, it'd be her fault.

She arose, draped a spare robe that Shera had lent her over her shoulders, and closed the door of the room behind her.

Loz was quartered a level down from everyone else - Cid had probably assumed that separating him would be better for everyone. Tifa stepped barefoot and silent down the metal grill of the stairs, and walked into the corridor with her head high.

Vincent had been leaning against the wall, and stood the moment he saw her feet descending the stairs. He moved to meet her partway down the hall, away from the door. "Tifa..."

She held the robe closed around herself, and looked up into Vincent's face. She'd nothing to hide any more. Still, she kept her voice low. "Let me pass."

Vincent hesitated for a moment before laying his hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to do this."

It was easily one of the most telling things she had ever heard him say. He knew full well what she was doing with Loz, but more importantly knew why, and still didn't want her to.

She lowered her gaze; it hurt to see him so concerned, given how emotionless he usually appeared. She'd relied on him so much for so long. Vincent had carried her when she was at her most broken, forgiven her weakness, pulled her to her feet and held her up when he had to. Without him, she would have died in despair as soon as she'd seen Cloud's body fall. And somehow he'd never fallen himself, not even when Sephiroth had attacked the sanctuary cave...

"It's all right, Vincent," she said softly, laying one hand over his glove. She tried to smile a little, looking up at him again. "It's not so bad. It's better than letting him wreck the ship."

"Tifa..." Vincent seemed to be looking for words. She could guess them. _Don't do this for us. We can take him down together if he tries anything. You don't have to sacrifice yourself._

She dropped her gaze once more, her voice just a little more sharp. "I said it's all right." She pushed past him in the narrow hall, the both of them turning while still facing each other, almost as though dancing.

"Lock me in. Then get some sleep," she suggested, before releasing his hand and moving away. She didn't look back.

The sacrifice had already been made. She only wanted to keep it from going to waste, now.

Loz sat up when she entered the room; she could see him blinking blearily in the light from the door. The door shut and locked behind her, and still she didn't look back.

He was still for a long moment, sitting on the bed with the blanket pooled at his waist. She waited, just as still, until her eyes adjusted to the darkness enough that she could see the gleam of his eyes.

"I didn't think you were coming," he finally said, lying back again.

_Neither did I_. Tifa didn't dare speak the words aloud.

Instead, she let the robe slip from her shoulders and, for the first time, went to him of her own accord.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	20. If I Could Take You With Me

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Menace" by Minuit.

* * *

**(20: I Would Not Fear Death If I Could Take You With Me)**

* * *

It hurt less to wake so close to someone. Without question, it was comfort to be held; it softened dreams and deepened sleep, and the damaged world seemed less bleak when there was another heartbeat near.

The surprise, to Tifa, was that it didn't seem to matter whose warmth she shared. Drifting into consciousness with Loz's arm around her was just as comforting as those few times that Vincent had gone so far in trying to keep her sane.

She didn't like what she thought that said about her, but she was too tired of the world to dwell on it. She couldn't afford to wallow in hating herself any more when there was work to be done.

With her head on his shoulder, she simply stared at her hand on Loz's chest for a while, feeling the strength of his heartbeat under her fingers. His cheek rested against her forehead, and his arm around her was still; she thought him asleep, until he spoke.

"Gettin' hungry," he mumbled, as though only half-awake. She could feel his voice as much as his heartbeat, and curled her hand closed as though to avoid feeling so much.

After a moment, she began to push herself up, away from the addictive warmth. "I'll get you something."

He grunted, and his arm around her tightened briefly, preventing her from rising. "After," he said a bit more strongly, shifting his legs against hers. He pulled her down again, closer, his other hand reaching up to twine fingers in her hair as he lazily nuzzled at her.

Tifa squirmed, trying to loosen his grip. "Loz -"

He relaxed a little, falling still. She was surprised at how quiet his voice was. "But you won't come back."

She blinked, unconsciously letting herself lean against him. "I'll come back," she said as reassuringly as she could. She couldn't bring herself to smile - or even look at him as she spoke - but he should be used to that by now, certainly.

He snorted. "Tonight. Won't see you all day."

She frowned - he seemed to grasp her feelings on the matter a little better than he let on - but drew away anyway. "Then you have something to look forward to."

The effect was immediate. He pulled her back down onto him and gave her a lopsided grin, their faces only inches apart. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Tifa responded, not quite meeting his eyes.

He kissed her then, his movements aggressively slow, as though he might convince her to do other things before she left him after all. But in the end, he simply let her go.

It took Tifa a moment to pull away, and she still wouldn't look him in the eye. "Tonight," she murmured, before pushing herself up and locating the robe on the floor.

She looked back once, as she opened the door, and that time she briefly met his gaze.

* * *

It took a few days to reach the Bone Village, even with a direct line of flight. Tifa took to visiting Loz in the middle of the day as well, and brought him as much to occupy his time as she could find - books and a few puzzle-devices, mostly. He was still getting dangerously stir crazy by the time they made landfall in a field outside the village; she wasn't sure how much longer he'd remain so cooperative about his captivity.

If he recognized their location, he gave no sign.

The Bone Village had changed since Tifa had first seen it. The open dig had been allowed to lay fallow, foliage converging on it from all sides. Even the paleontologists had decided that now was not the time to pursue the ancient past.

For the most part.

"But Meteor _didn't_ destroy the Planet when the Ancients summoned it the first time," a familiar voice nearly whined from the edge of the airfield, just at the tree-line. There were two figures there. One was an elderly man, on his knees in an open patch of dirt marked out in squares. He was patiently scouring something flush with the earth with what appeared to be a toothbrush.

"All the same, young miss," he said calmly, "The Planet could do without another hit drawing all the Lifestream to just one spot. The rest of the world would suffer, with all the energy pulled away from it. Plants would die, the water would cease to flow; the ancients were well aware of this." He smiled in satisfaction and very gently picked something up from the ground - a strangely carved spiral of blue seashell. "You see this? Everyone here's looking for ancient life forms, but they're missing the forest for the trees. This is a key! Rumor has it that the Ancients built their capital on this continent. Perhaps their settlement was right here! I've already found steps and the remains of a dwelling..." He trailed off. "If we can find their city and locate their secrets, perhaps there's still a way to salvage this world. They did it once..."

If only he knew, Tifa thought, walking with Cid and Barrett and their families, and Lia and Zhai. She'd thought to stay on the _Highwind_, but Vincent had told her to go, and volunteered to stay and guard Loz. Nanaki chose to keep him company.

The Ancient's capital contained nothing of use. Only pain. Only Aeris' grave.

"Whatever." The second figure, standing over the man, was the one with the familiar voice. The slender girl stepped out from the shadow of the trees, shielding her eyes and waving toward the group. "'Bout time," she called. "You know how long I've had to listen to this guy?"

Cid spat on the ground, Mal waiving from his shoulders. "Show some respect for yer elders, will ya?" he snarled back.

"Yuffie!" Marlene broke free from the group, running forward and catching the girl in a fierce hug. "I was so worried about you!"

Tifa saw Yuffie's expression soften as she looked down at Marlene and smiled. "Hey there..."

And then the young woman looked up and focused on Tifa, and her smile melted into a scowl. She looked away. "You know me, Marlene. I can take care of myself. No worries."

Tifa kept her gaze down, after that.

The village had grown, in the past several years. The dig area itself was still inhabited as it had been before, but there were now a few streets of houses, most of them small prefabricated Shinra emergency units, stretching off between the trees. Most of the units had been there long enough to have been built onto; the additions were ramshackle wooden affairs of varying stability.

Elmyra's house was an exception. Most of AVALANCHE, and Barrett in particular, had taken the care to see that its additions were well-made. There were plenty of them - it was one of the larger houses at this point. She needed the room, since she insisted on hosting whomever of AVALANCHE came by, and Turks as well when Shinra sent them to look in on Reeve. Reeve and his mother Ruvie shared one of the rooms at the back, where trees outside hid the generator that ran the equipment that monitored Reeve.

Tifa hung back as the others entered, but heard Ruvie's effusive greeting of Denzel, and heard Marlene's quick footsteps toward the back - she wanted to see Reeve.

Yuffie walked in ahead of Tifa, almost bristling from mere proximity, and Tifa thought of simply waiting outside. She knew better than to push Elmyra like that, though. She'd be dragged inside and sat down for a meal if she tried to stay back now, and they couldn't spend that long here. She wondered why in the world Vincent had told her to come, and why she'd listened to him.

So she entered but hung back as the women greeted everyone. From a corner of the front room, she watched Elmyra's pleasantries - she'd never met Lia and Zhai before, but welcomed them wholeheartedly. Ruvie was more reserved, but no less kind, and it was she who went to put the kettle on. The two of women had struck up a friendship and maintained a style of hospitality that was increasingly rare, given the state of the Planet.

Yuffie quickly set to chattering away with Elmyra, voicing a near-constant stream of frivolities, as though she'd been trained in small talk. Quite possibly she had been, Tifa realized, remembering the girl's background.

Tifa didn't mind at all; it kept attention away from her. But it didn't last. As soon as Yuffie moved on to talking with Shera, Elmyra had Tifa cornered.

Elmyra didn't press her advantage. She only passed a cup of tea into Tifa's hands and murmured, "It's all right. You're among friends." And moved on.

After a moment, Tifa began to sip the tea, and looked out the window at the sun-dappled forest outside instead of paying attention to the others in the room. That would be why Vincent had wanted her to come; Elmyra had a tendency to put people at ease.

It just wasn't wise to stay in one place for too long, these days. Soon enough, the goodbyes were said, and Tifa walked back to the _Highwind_ with Cid, Barrett, and... Yuffie.

She wasn't sure what was prompting Yuffie to rejoin them. The girl revealed that Nanaki had informed her of the stop in the Bone Village, "Among other things."

The blistering look she gave Tifa when she uttered the phrase reminded Tifa of the sun in the desert, and she hung her head. Just when her faith in her friends had been reaffirmed by how they took her interaction with Loz, someone who _would_ react the way she'd feared would turn up again.

But Yuffie was just as quick to change the subject as she was to condemn. "So, Cid, you ever get those escape gliders working?"

"Huh?" Cid was walking ahead and had missed the scathing glance. "Yeah, got those done right after we got the _Highwind_ out of the hangar. You think I'd have my family on board during this mess without 'em?"

It wasn't until they were in the air again that Yuffie revealed her true reason for coming along: Rufus Shinra had sent her with a message to meet in Kalm.

At the controls on the bridge, Cid made a choking sound, turning to glare over his shoulder at the girl as the _Highwind_ sped low over the forest. "What the hell does he want now?" he snapped. "Like I'm taking my ship that close to Midgar!"

Yuffie sat on the railing, idly tipping back with legs outstretched. She seemed to be watching her feet rather than anyone else on the Bridge. "Oh, don't be such a baby. He's not asking you to go to Midgar, just Kalm. That's practically the other side of the continent."

"What's so important that he has to meet in person?" Barrett grumbled, minding the engine readings as Cid had taught him. He obviously didn't like the idea much either.

"How should I know?" Yuffie responded with a roll of her eyes. "He just hires me for Materia hunts. I'm not into all this super-secret hush-hush business. He said something about the moon being out of phase, that's all I know."

Cid swore loudly. "What did he do now, forget the how to open it?" He set the course with sharp, angry motions. At the back of the bridge, Tifa nearly lost her balance as the airship swung about to head for Kalm.

The pilot continued ranting the entire while. "I did what he wanted! He got the orbital city built fast and supplied the rockets, I built him his moon vault. We were supposed to be done with each other now, goddammit! Vault's done, space station fell, deal's over! The bastard had better have a good reason for yankin' me around like this..."

Tifa silently moved away, turning to head down to see Vincent, who was still guarding Loz. Maybe she'd stop by the galley on the way and take them something to eat.

She wasn't much interested in a meeting with Shinra either, much less with getting Loz so close to his family in the Tower in Midgar. Though maybe at this point they should just let him go when they landed to meet up with Shinra. It'd be easier.

She hadn't known about Cid's deal with Shinra, but she'd suspected something like that must've happened. Rufus Shinra was even less likely than his father to have built the orbital city and populated with refugees out of the goodness of his heart. He must've wanted that moon vault pretty bad.

Almost as soon as Tifa wondered what in the world Rufus could want to hide in a vault on the moon, the answer came to her, and she stopped on the landing of the stairs. Her knuckles on the stair railing went white with tension.

What could be that important to secretly hide in such an inaccessible place, other than the Black Materia itself?

She stood where she was and tried desperately to think of something else. It had to be something else. She _couldn't_ know where the Black Materia was, didn't dare - it could be tortured out of her if she knew. Oh god, Cid had known all along; no wonder he was so angry when she and Vincent had arrived on the space station...

Slowly sinking to her knees, Tifa sat on the stairs, rocking back and forth a little. She hugged herself so tightly that her arms ached.

It would be all right, she told herself, though she knew she'd been lying to herself about that for years.

It was more important that Loz not know, she realized. And not know that she knew. She'd bring it up at dinner and tell everyone to keep their mouths shut. They'd realize why. Not even Yuffie could be so self-centered as to babble about it within Loz's hearing. It'd mean the destruction of the world if she did. Even if they tried to keep him captive forever, there was a good chance that he could escape, and killing him -

_Don't let him die. He is __**necessary.**_

Killing him wasn't an option.

* * *

Over the next few days, on the way to Kalm, Yuffie avoided Tifa almost to the point of absurdity. She'd go so far as to get up and leave the table if Tifa arrived when she was there. Nanaki and Vincent tried to talk to her about it, but they were simply met with quick changes of subject.

Tifa felt worse than ever about how relations had broken down. Yuffie hung on to the idea that Tifa had purposely killed Cloud the way a drowning man might cling to driftwood. After that, the idea that Sephiroth had chosen to destroy Wutai because Tifa was there was easy to believe.

It wasn't entirely her fault, Tifa knew, but that didn't mean that she didn't feel the guilt as keenly as if it was. Yuffie wanted someone to blame more than she wanted to remember how long Sephiroth had spent in Wutai, helping Shinra subjugate the continent, years ago. Perhaps it had been long enough to grow to loathe the place, or his choice had simply been random - it didn't matter. Yuffie wanted someone to blame so that it wasn't just a horrible accident that Cloud was dead. Having someone to blame made it easier to deal with.

Tifa had no such luxury. She'd no one to blame but herself.

Days passed, and the sea fell away to coastal rocks, which sped into bluffs, and were replaced by open, grassy plains. Only a few more days, Tifa knew, as she stood at the railing to one side of the open-air top deck. The sun slowly descended toward the horizon on the first day over land.

It was neither Vincent's footsteps nor his voice that announced him, but the cracking of his cloak in the wind. Tifa glanced up to see him, and watched as he took a few inevitable steps closer. Then she returned to watching the plains gliding by below them, brushing her wind-whipped hair away from her face again.

Vincent only stood next to her for a while, seeming to simply watch the ground as she did, though she knew better. He was watching her. He was evaluating, calculating, attempting to determine the stability of her mental state. Watching out for her, as always.

"You seem to be doing better," he murmured, his words barely audible above the wind. "For a while, I was unsure that you'd ever be so strong again."

Tifa wrinkled her nose with a slight snort. "Not much choice," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. "When it comes down to coping or dying, I'm just too used to coping, I guess."

He made a noncommittal sound and simply stood next to her for a while, his own hair safely bound away from his face by his headband. Finally he said, obviously attempting to be as tactful as he could, "He doesn't... hurt you, does he."

Tifa said nothing at first. It was easy for her to figure out what Vincent meant, particularly from the way he phrased it as a statement, rather than a question. Loz was never too far from her mind. Eventually, she managed to choose the right words to form her answer. "Not intentionally. Hasn't since... since Wooddell."

"Perhaps the attention is distracting him from his more violent tendencies," Vincent suggested.

"Even that's only good until he gets bored," she shrugged. "I was desperate, okay? It's better than before but I know it's temporary. You don't have to warn me." She kept her head bowed, her face hidden by her hair, even as the wind carried it about her head.

There was silence for a few minutes, before Tifa raised her head again. "Vincent, who's watching him now? I thought you were going to stay until dinner."

Vincent had an immediate answer for that. "Yuffie. She offered to keep watch while I came to see you."

Tifa frowned. "What was it you wanted to see me about?"

The gunman turned to look at her, his brow furrowing. "Yuffie said that _you_ wanted to see _me_."

For a moment, they only stared at each other, trying to comprehend what was happening. The obvious question of why Yuffie would say that was quickly subsumed by disbelief. The real question - why did Yuffie want time alone with Loz - was just as quickly burned away with an answer.

"She's gonna try to kill him," Tifa exclaimed, pushing away from the railing and turning for the door. A few quick steps, and she'd yanked it open.

There had been no way to hear the shouting and gunfire before, when the door was closed. As it was, opening it revealed the sound of Cid screaming at Barrett that shooting inside an airship was a _really bad idea_.

And then Loz stumbled into the hallway at a run, a little winded but not slowed in the slightest by cuts and bullet wounds. He paused when he looked up and saw Tifa in the doorway to the deck, and grinned. And rushed.

Tifa slammed the door in his face. She was unarmed but for Materia - none of which was offensive - and wasn't even wearing Cloud's armor, with no protection but the headband wrapped around her wrist to protect from Sleep spells. Vincent probably had a gun - he was an ex-Turk and rarely went without one - but Tifa was sure that it wouldn't help much.

She'd barely turned to warn Vincent when the door burst open. It managed to remain connected to its frame by one hinge, but the force of the blow knocked Tifa back - she'd still had her hand on the door.

Rolling across the deck, Tifa sprang to her feet. A hand grabbed her arm, pulling, and she tried to shake free before she realized that it was Vincent.

Vincent had no time to draw his gun, if he had one, before Loz was on them. She didn't see exactly what happened - she only knew that she was knocked aside again. When she raised her head, Vincent was on the deck and she couldn't see his face. Loz was standing over him, and turned toward her...

She flung herself away, striking the railing and trying to use it to stand. She was halfway to her feet when he got to her. She expected to feel his fingers in her hair, expected the blows to start - but there was none of that. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, not attacking.

She risked a glance to his face, and saw him grinning at her, but it was _him_. He was there. He wasn't lost in battle-madness or attacking senselessly - he knew exactly what he was doing.

She only realized that her hand was on his upper arm when it slipped in the blood that seeped from a wound there, but she barely looked away. If he was here, aware, maybe she had a chance of reasoning with him. "Loz -"

Barrett, Nanaki, and Cid ran from the door into the rest of the gondola, shouting. Vincent was pulling himself to his feet, his nose bleeding, with the firearm that had been hidden beneath his cloak finally in hand.

Loz suddenly whirled her around, his right arm catching across her throat, his left at the side of her head. He backed against the railing, dragging her, looking from one to the next of his four enemies to be sure that they saw the threat to her.

Tifa got her hands up to his arm, but he was already holding her tightly with open wounds; no amount of scratching she could do was going to make him let go. If she could get his wrist, his hand, maybe she could get a pressure point...

"Don't you dare!" Barrett snarled, and Tifa felt Loz's arm tighten at her neck.

"He won't kill me!" She shouted, struggling against him to stand upright, her shoulders against his chest. "Vincent -"

And then balance shifted. For a moment Tifa thought that the _Highwind_ had been hit by something, the gondola swaying dangerously, but in the next moment, her feet left the deck. She was tipping backward.

Loz had thrown them back over the railing.

At first she was too stunned to think - she could only watch her friends appearing at the railing, reaching, as the gondola rapidly shrank above her. Off to one side, something seemed to be moving away from the gondola - one of the escape gliders.

She didn't remember how close the ground was. They hadn't been that high, the clouds still above them. But it didn't matter, did it.

So this was what it felt like to fail. It was something of a relief, really. In a moment, it would all be over; she had nothing to worry about at all any more.

The rush of wind was too loud for her to hear anything, but she knew that Loz spoke - she could feel the vibration in his chest. There was another moment of panic as he released her, and she hated herself for the weakness, and she laughed at herself because it wasn't as though it mattered now. It was only the wind that made her eyes tear, because she was free.

He didn't let go of her entirely, but pulled her back by one arm, bringing her close again. Facing him now, she let her arms slide around his shoulders and pressed her face against his neck as though hiding.

He had time to hold her.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	21. Took Me To The Silver People

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Zerospace" by Kidney Thieves.

* * *

**(21: Took Me To The Silver People)**

* * *

It was peaceful.

There were hands on her, and there were dim voices that she couldn't understand, but none of it mattered. Her eyes were closed, but she knew that that she lay on the ground and that there were flowers around her. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of earth and foliage.

Hands again. Raised voices. It was getting harder to ignore them. The moment that she thought of trying to understand what they were saying, the scent of flowers faded, and the voices sharpened to clarity.

"What were you _thinking?_ You didn't have to bring _her_. We don't need her any more."

"Didn't Mother say I could have her when we were done?"

"You're lucky we brought Materia instead of a Phoenix Down, then. Did you even think of that?"

"You would've brought more than one Phoenix Down."

A third voice, higher-pitched but just as irritated. "Look, just get her on the bike so we can go home, will you?"

The hands began to change position to lift her, but Tifa opened her eyes. She knew these voices, and her stricken expression reflected that knowledge.

There was earth, but no flowers - that must have been some residual hallucination from what had happened. She could remember Loz's arms tightening around her, and then... a merciful gap in her memory. She knew it to be the kind side effect of a Revive spell; Phoenix Down let you remember everything.

She was lying on her back on broken earth, and Loz was kneeling over her, smiling. "Hey."

Tifa tried to crawl backwards, horror flooding her senses, but Loz simply lay a hand on her chest, pushing down enough to hold her still. "Gonna go home now," he said patiently, then lifted his hand and took hold of her arms to help her up. "C'mon."

One of the other voices - the ones that filled her with such dread - made a disgusted sound. From the corner of her eye, Tifa saw Kadaj turn on his heel and move toward one of two large motorcycles.

Loz pulled her to her feet without giving her much say in the matter. As he did, Yazoo passed, staring her in the face with narrowed eyes before mounting behind Kadaj.

Her legs refused to work, knees buckling under her; Loz had to drag her to get her to the other motorcycle, though he didn't seem to mind.

She was shaking. There was no pain now - a high-level Revive spell was thorough enough for that, too - but there would be. They had her. The Princes had her, and they were taking her back to Midgar, back to the Tower, back to the Queen. They were going to hurt her again...

During the long journey back to Midgar, the thrum of the motorcycle under her and the by now familiar presence of Loz holding her in front of him gradually wore away at the terror. She couldn't give in, she reminded herself; she had to fight it. Because this time, she really did know where the Black Materia was. She'd rather die than let them know its location. She'd have to make them want her dead. Perhaps if she went after Jenova...

The only problem with all of this was the first thing she'd heard, before she'd been quite awake. Yazoo had said that they didn't need her any more.

The idea that they might already know the location of the Black Materia was more terrifying than anything, even more so than the threat of torture. And if they didn't need her any more, then they knew.

The journey was long enough for her to begin to wonder _how_ they knew.

Night fell. The lights of Midgar, and the glow of the city's Mako reactors, were in sight on the horizon by the time Tifa realized exactly what had happened on the _Highwind_.

Yuffie hadn't gone and taken Vincent's place so that she could try to kill Loz. She'd gone to let Loz out. Yuffie had betrayed them - she'd figured out the moon vault's contents from what Cid had said, too. And then she'd gone and told Loz and sold them out, when the airship was just about as close to Midgar as its path was going to get. Tifa remembered, as she'd fallen, seeing one of the _Highwind's_ gliders departing - that had probably been Yuffie, escaping.

Maybe Yuffie had thought that by telling Loz and letting him go, she was getting the Princes off her friends' backs. It seemed that no one had expected Loz to try to take Tifa with him.

But how had Loz's brothers known exactly where to find him, then? How had they gotten there quickly enough to be able to revive their corpses?

They had to have known in advance to be out there waiting. There had been a tracking device in Loz's crown, but that was long gone. Yuffie must have told them.

Tifa suddenly realized why the Princes had been right behind them, when she and Vincent had gone to the Orbital City. They hadn't known about the space station any more than Tifa and Vincent had - until Yuffie tipped them off. She'd probably called them from the launch base in the Nibel Mountains, right where Tifa and Vincent had last seen her. No wonder she'd been so irritated when Tifa had called her from orbit.

It all fit with deadly precision, but why in the world was Yuffie helping _them?_

It wasn't as though any of it mattered any more. The Princes and the Queen knew where the Black Materia was hidden. Soon, they'd have it, and they'd summon Meteor, and the Planet would be put out of its misery.

The war was as good as over; there was nothing Tifa could do against all of them at once. Unless she found a way to die more quickly, she had nothing left but to live whatever time was left as Loz's plaything - if she were lucky enough to avoid the rest of his family's attention. If not... it would probably hurt a lot more.

It was frightening that belonging to Loz was actually the best-case scenario, assuming she had to live at all.

She hoped that her friends could simply leave her to her fate. What was the point of running any more? What was the point of rescuing her? Maybe she could find a way to tell them to stay away.

When the motorcycles finally came to a halt inside what had once been the Shinra Tower, and Loz reached for her to help her dismount, she took his hand. She didn't let go until they were in the elevator, traveling up to the top of the building - he pulled her close then, and leaned casually against the glass wall with one arm low around her. Maybe he was worried that her knees would buckle again.

Yazoo glared at her most of the way up, rarely looking away. Kadaj carefully did not look at her at all.

"Mother isn't here." Clearly disappointed, Loz spoke before the doors opened on the sixty-ninth floor, his head tilted and eyes unfocused.

"She went to Shinra as soon as Yuffie's call came through," Kadaj said with a shrug. "She was angry."

Loz frowned in confusion. "She didn't summon him?"

"He tried to run." Kadaj grinned.

Loz laughed.

"Don't worry," Yazoo murmured, his glare replaced with a poisonous smile. "She'll see you when she gets back."

If it was some kind of threat, Loz didn't seem to take it as one. He smiled at Yazoo and led Tifa out as soon as the elevator doors chimed and opened, his arm still around her.

Tifa kept her arms crossed, unobtrusively holding herself, and kept quiet. If Jenova had gone to Rufus Shinra, in Kalm, where the Highwind was heading... her friends were as good as dead. Assuming that Yuffie hadn't been lying about Rufus summoning AVALANCHE in the first place. Tifa found herself hoping that the Wutian woman had been lying. Even alone, the Queen had no problem taking care of herself, thanks to her particular abilities.

Most of Midgar was deserted now; it had been ever since Sephiroth and his Queen had taken power. It hadn't been until after Sephiroth's death, when the Princes had been created, that they worked together to sink and seal the land around the city and flood the Slums. Midgar was now an island in a lake full of as many vicious creatures as the Princes could find and keep alive; the only access was by air, or by the single well-guarded highway by which they had entered.

The Tower was the exception. Jenova and her sons kept a community of humans as slaves. The lobby that the elevator opened into held a few dozen well-groomed humans, many offering refreshment for their returning masters, all of them bowing their heads.

The slaves were there of their own accord, willing subjects of the Queen. It was sickening, to Tifa, that so many would accept Jenova's rule - but these same people also accepted that the world was at its end. The less fatalistic of those who served her might even see her as a way to escape. The unquestioning loyalty of these slaves ensured that covert infiltration of the Tower was impossible.

Loz released her, motioning to one of the slaves - a girl no older than Denzel, with pigtails in her brown hair. Like most of the slaves, she wore little more than a form-hugging wrap skirt; the more revealing the clothing, the less chance of concealed weapons. The slaves' loyalty was unquestioning but not unquestioned.

"You. See to her," he said simply, relinquishing Tifa into the girl's care.

Tifa did not mistake Loz's choice of servant for her. A loyal child would not betray them, and Tifa could never bring herself to harm a child, which she'd have to if she were to try to escape.

And the girl was indeed loyal. She looked up when Loz addressed her, and though she smiled as she moved toward Tifa, her eyes flicked from Loz to Yazoo. When she looked at Yazoo, her expression was one of subtle adoration, though her attention alone gave her away.

At a motion from the girl, Tifa followed her to one side, into what had once been a suite of high-ranking Shinra executives' offices. Walls had been removed, and now the rooms were a spacious bedchamber.

It was an improvement from the last time she'd been to the Tower, at least, Tifa thought.

She let herself be bathed and tended to, and she ate when food was brought to her. The entire time - almost in spite of herself - she tried to concentrate, to think of a way out of this. Some way to forestall the doom of the Planet. Some way to fix everything.

There was nothing to be done. She was out of options.

Hope left a cold vacuum in its wake. She hadn't even realized, before, how much hope she'd still had.

When there was nothing else left to do, the silent girl made her exit, and Tifa slept. She wasn't sure how much later it was that she was roused by the sound of soft voices.

"Don't."

"She kept you away."

"It wasn't her." Loz hesitated. "Well. Not _just_ her."

"It's not right, Loz. She's not..." Yazoo trailed off as though struggling for words.

Loz lowered his voice a little more when he responded. "She's different."

"You like her too much," Yazoo rallied.

"You can have her too. I don't mind." Loz's tone said quite the opposite, in fact. Probably he thought it would be fun to watch.

Yazoo was not amused. "I don't _want_ her, Loz." He seemed to gather himself. "Mother was angry when you didn't come back from the Gold Saucer, but Kadaj realized that you must be trying to work the location of the Black Materia out of her. So Mother decided to believe that too, and she - she just waited for you. She was excited..."

The breath he took shuddered, as though he were crying. On the bed, Tifa was hard pressed to stay still and keep her eyes shut. She wasn't sure what would happen if she disturbed them at this point. It probably wouldn't be good.

"But you weren't, were you?" Yazoo finally went on. "You were just... you were just playing."

"No, no, no, I didn't, I wasn't -" Loz sounded as though he wasn't far from tears himself, the way his breath caught.

"You abandoned us."

"No!" Loz shouted, and Tifa jumped, but the room went silent the moment the word left him. They must have been holding their breaths, waiting for her to react, like children afraid of waking a parent.

Tifa remained still. She was certain that Loz knew that she could not possibly sleep so deeply as to have missed his outburst, but feigning sleep seemed the only defense she had.

The silence stretched so long that she thought that they'd silently left, or that she'd dreamed the exchange, but eventually she heard them moving again. The door of the chamber very quietly opened and closed.

Tifa was unable to sleep after that.

By the time Loz returned, the clouds outside blushed with dawn through the large windows that composed one wall. She kept her eyes closed when his weight settled on the side of the bed.

He touched her a little, but for the most part, simply sat there.

She wondered if he was watching her.

He finally murmured, "My brothers aren't happy with me."

Tifa opened her eyes to stare at the pink tones igniting the clouds from their gentle blues and violets outside. She wondered how long he'd known that she was awake.

She did not look at him. He sat still and quiet for a long time, leaning back against the headboard; Tifa eventually realized that she could see their reflection in the glass. He seemed to simply be watching the growing light outside through the north-facing windows. His expression seemed calm, but his arms were folded tightly.

It was a strange moment, him confiding in her, but her lack of fear was what struck her as strangest of all. She really was growing too used to him.

There was a sudden commotion outside the door. Loz sat upright, then pushed himself off the bed, glancing back and holding up one hand to tell Tifa to stay where she was. The silken material of his loose pants - the only garment he wore here, in his home - rustled as he nearly crept toward the door.

"Where is he?"

Tifa, who had turned to watch, noticed that her heart was pounding only after she recognized the voice. She'd been terrified that Jenova had returned, she realized. But it was not the Queen's voice that carried through the door.

The door burst open and Yuffie stomped in, still wearing the last clothes that Tifa had seen her in, and looking more than a little travel-worn. Her expression was as full of the promise of kindness as the hurricane in Costa del Sol had been, and she paused in the doorway only long enough to focus on Loz. "You!" She shouted, stalking toward him without a trace of fear. "Can't you do anything _right!_"

She emphasized her final word by cuffing Loz across the face.

Loz's head snapped aside, and Tifa couldn't see his face, but she saw the sudden set of his shoulders - the change was immediate. He lashed out, catching Yuffie's side and effortlessly tossing her toward the windows.

The ninja landed gracefully, straddling the glass with her feet on the supports between panels, and launched herself back at him. She flipped in the air, aiming a series of kicks toward his face; he blocked, and she back-flipped away only far enough to drop and attempt to sweep his legs out from under him.

Tifa only watched for a moment, a little stunned. Watching Loz fight was something of a different experience than fighting him herself. From here, she could better appreciate his skill... And Yuffie's. She was stronger than she had been, the last time Tifa had seen her fight. More graceful.

Yuffie dodged several blows, then whirled as he punched again, catching his head with her elbow to stun him as she took his wrist and threw him. The move looked ridiculously unlikely, given how much smaller she was then he, but Tifa knew that the motion was based in balance rather than mass.

Loz tumbled through the door and out into the lobby, and Yuffie ran to follow. It wasn't until then that Tifa stood, tying the white satin robe she'd been given tightly around herself and moving toward the door. She didn't know if there was anything she could do, but she wouldn't see an opportunity if she hung back, either.

She stood in the doorway, watching with a slightly shocked expression as the battle raged around the open space. There were slaves scurrying around the edges of the room, trying to keep out of the way or simply standing behind pillars with their eyes closed, clearly terrified. Kadaj lounged on the wide steps that led up to the seventieth floor, dressed just as Loz was, casually paring and eating pieces from an apple with a small knife.

Tifa took a step forward.

"You don't want to interfere," Yazoo murmured, frighteningly close. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, arms folded (loosely, unlike Loz's had been before), comfortably at rest.

She froze in place, staring at him for only a moment before returning to watching the fight.

Yuffie leapt toward her opponent and caught him in the chest with both feet; Loz slammed back-first into the doors of one of the elevators, the metal buckling under his shoulders. It didn't slow him down at all. He ducked and punched Yuffie in the stomach when she struck at him again. She doubled over, but grabbed one of Loz's ankles, yanking it upward and dropping him with her knees landing squarely in his stomach. He whipped his legs up, catching her head with one foot on either side, and flung her away; she tumbled through the air and skidded to a halt at the base of the stairs, and barely paused before running for him again.

It was only a few blows later that Loz caught her, simply closing his wide grip over her head. He spun and bashed Yuffie's head into a pillar.

Tifa was at the wrong angle to see the impact, but the concrete fractured, dust flying from the far side. There was a distinct lack of resistance as he drew his arm back and slammed Yuffie's head into the pillar a few more times.

It was all Tifa could take. She bolted forward, ignoring Yazoo and shouting. "Loz! Stop!"

His gaze flicked up, toward her, the mad grin fading a fraction -

Yuffie's foot came up and kicked him in the chest, sending him skidding backward. Blood covered half her head when she lurched into Tifa's view, but the green ripples that washed over her were unmistakable - she'd cast a Regen spell on herself.

The young woman's face was contorted with anger under the blood - anger displayed and turned upon her more openly than Tifa had ever seen in her former teammate before. Too stunned to do more than blink, Tifa did nothing to defend herself as Yuffie threw a roundhouse punch at her face. The blow caught the side of her head, and Tifa staggered, pain exploding across her senses.

She managed to raise her arms to block the following jabs to her torso, but only a few landed before the shock gave way. Tifa lashed out, blocking more aggressively, then landing a punch to her opponent's shoulder. If she could just stun the other woman for a moment maybe she could stop this -

Another blow sent Yuffie weaving to the side, but Loz's fist caught her and threw her back. He rushed at her without a glance toward Tifa, but Yuffie dodged around a pillar, then jumped and kicked off of the pillar to kick at Tifa's head.

Tifa flung herself backward without moving her feet, swinging to the side as she whipped forward again and caught Yuffie's boot. With a shout, she flung her opponent hard into the tiled floor.

Loz was there again, stomping at Yuffie's head; Yuffie rolled out of the way. Had her hair been any longer, it would have been caught under Loz's foot.

Tifa gritted her teeth. At this rate, with Loz's "help", there'd be no chance of a peaceful end to this.

Yuffie sprang to her feet again, snarling and kicking at Loz, but when she righted herself and tried to punch, Tifa caught her wrist. "Yuffie, wait -"

The room spun and she was suddenly on her back several feet away, and Yuffie was coming for her. Loz was reaching -

"Enough!"

She'd had no chance of peacefully ending the battle, but at a single word from Kadaj, Loz stilled and stood straight again. It seemed that Yuffie knew enough to obey Kadaj as well - she relaxed and straightened, tossing her head to clear her short hair from her face, though she kept her disdainful gaze on Tifa. After a moment, Tifa shifted to sit up and adjusted her robe around her shoulders again. She couldn't meet Yuffie's eyes.

Kadaj got to his feet, tossing the knife and apple core to the floor in the direction of one of the slaves that hadn't yet fled the room. He didn't spare the young man a glance, but kept his feline gaze on his elder brother. "Mother will be here soon," he said softly, and trailed one hand lightly across Loz's shoulders as he passed on his way to the elevators. "Come."

Tifa didn't realize how close behind her Yazoo was until he stepped around her, following Loz and Kadaj toward the elevator. Kadaj glanced over his shoulder, jerking his head at the women, the move nothing so gentle as a nod. "Clean up."

Inside the elevator, Loz turned, and was looking at Tifa as the automated doors shut.

It was another moment before Tifa realized that Yuffie was simply walking past her, ignoring her and moving toward. Two servants closed in behind her even as another two moved toward Tifa, the pigtailed girl extending her hand to help her to her feet.

Tifa stared after the other woman. She was... comfortable here. At home. Accepted. Tifa tried to swallow, but her mouth felt horribly dry; her voice was hoarse when she called out. "Yuffie! _Why?!_"

Yuffie looked over her shoulder with an unreadable expression, then turned away and stepped through the doors, and the slaves closed them behind her.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	22. The Strings That Change the Faces of Men

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Ballrooms of Mars" by (I favor the cover of this song by the Crüxshadows).

* * *

**(22: The Strings That Change the Faces of Men)**

* * *

Tifa had known that to never see the seventieth floor of the Tower again would be too much to hope for.

The grand staircase was cold marble under her bare feet, but she couldn't slow her ascent. The girl with the pigtails led her, small hand fever-warm around Tifa's wrist, and the girl neither paused nor spared her a glance.

The seventieth floor was Jenova's domain - her throne room, if you wanted to extend the metaphor of royalty that she and Sephiroth had begun. Tifa had seen it the last time she'd been here, as a prisoner, beaten and on her knees.

And as she came to the top of the stairs, seeing it again was no less horrifying.

The Queen's throne room was an open space, ringed by glass walls, dominated by a floor-to-ceiling structure - Jenova's throne - in the center. The throne was something of a bizarre nest, a cushioned bowl-shape for her to lounge within, formed and surrounded and supported by what might have been a tree. Might have been - were it not for glimpses of glistening red tendons and pale hands and open mouths and the gentle beating of hearts. If the breeze that swayed it had not been not from dozens of sets of lungs, their sighing breath the structure's only movement beyond the subtle throb of blood through veins that splayed over its surface.

The throne was larger now. Jenova had added to it in the past few years. She'd taken humans and seduced their senses and infected them, and from within had worked their flesh into the shape she desired. They were still alive, trapped; Tifa couldn't help but wonder if anything of their minds remained.

She swallowed and tried not to break away and run.

Her gaze fell to the woman reclining on the throne: wild silver hair pulled back, but for long bangs, from a delicate face; skin tinged with a dead blue shade. She still wore a form-fitting vest and pants that said she was not long returned to her Tower. Tifa thought that she could see the darker stains of blood on the black leather clothing, but it was impossible to be certain.

The first time she'd seen the woman, it had been through a crystalline haze of solid Mako. Like Sephiroth, the woman had been encased in a pearl of Materia by the planet, sealed away in a secluded cave. Her hair had been brown, and her skin the pale tone of a fair human, rather than of death. Her name had been Lucrecia Crescent - Sephiroth's birth mother.

That had been before Sephiroth had found her, the perfect vessel for his "true" mother.

Jenova was speaking softly to Kadaj, who knelt before the throne, head uplifted as his Mother touched her stolen fingers to his face. The tips of her fingers seemed sharp now, stained dark. Nearby, Loz stood close to Yazoo; when he turned unsmiling to acknowledge Tifa's arrival, she saw the bruises on his neck and scratches in his skin. His eyes were reddened as though he'd been crying. Whatever punishment he'd had, he'd not been allowed to heal, but it seemed to be over.

Yazoo nodded with a soft smile to the pigtailed girl, who immediately released Tifa's hand and moved to stand behind him, with other slaves, at a respectful distance from the Princes. Tifa considered bolting again, but they were watching her. All of them. Where could she even go?

So she stepped forward, her bare feet silent on the polished floor, her hair shining with more care than it had seen in years. The simple black dress she'd been provided swirled lightly about her ankles as she came to a stop at Loz's side, with him between her and Yazoo.

There was a rustling sound behind her, and Tifa looked over her shoulder to see Yuffie arrive.

The young woman was dressed, for the first time that Tifa had ever seen, according to her noble status. Layers of embroidered white and lavender Wutian robes were bound at her waist with a wide yellow sash, accentuated by deep blue cord and pearls in her dark hair.

With a slight nod to his mother, Kadaj arose, swiftly moving forward to take Yuffie's hand. "I thought you'd like it," he murmured, and Yuffie broke into a mischievous smile.

"I'd like to get out of it," she whispered back.

Kadaj's eyes narrowed the way Loz's sometimes did. "In a little while."

Tifa was trying not to turn her head too far, but could not keep from staring. When Kadaj looked up through the silver hair that shielded his face, he met her gaze and smirked at her.

She tried to keep her mouth from hanging open. Yuffie and Kadaj. How long...

Two years ago, Reno had relayed to AVALANCHE that Yuffie was captured and that Kadaj intended to keep her. It had never occurred to Yuffie's friends that she might want to be kept. Tifa wondered if Reno hadn't known the exact circumstances, or if he was the Queen's thrall as well and it had all been a ploy to capture Tifa herself.

"My children," Jenova said in a low but carrying voice as she straightened, soft-booted feet daintily swinging down to touch the floor. Tifa wondered with a chill if she - if Yuffie, rather, was included in that address.

The Queen lifted her head to regard the group, one eye blue-green and cat-slitted as her sons' and the other gleaming like fire. "This part of our journey nears its end. Soon we shall retrieve that which was hidden from us, and summon Meteor, and take what we need of this world's gathered energy, and depart for our Promised Land." She turned her disturbing gaze on Yuffie. "And the Lady Kisaragi's continent shall be restored."

Tifa gritted her teeth and swallowed, the tendons in her neck standing out. So that was how they'd ensnared Yuffie - they claimed that they were going to heal Wutai. And Yuffie fell for it. Of course she would - she had no greater loyalty than to her country, her people; it had always been so. Tifa found herself speaking before she could think better of it, addressing Jenova. "How do you expect to do that when you're leaving a dead world behind you?"

There was something of a stunned silence; Tifa heard the shift of Loz's clothing as he stiffened. Jenova turned to regard Tifa with languid grace. "She speaks out of turn," she murmured aloud, then paused for a moment before continuing. "And she is ignorant."

She heard Loz swallow, and he hesitated, as though trying to choose his words well before speaking. Tifa didn't look at him - she stared back at Jenova, scowling, and the Queen did not look away from her. Of course _he_ was expected to speak for her. She was his problem now, wasn't she.

"She is... confused, Mother," Loz finally managed, and swallowed again before adding hopefully, "She does learn."

Tifa broke eye contact with Jenova and glared at Loz from the corner of her eye. Yuffie was unable to suppress a slight huff and Yazoo made a very soft, unidentifiable sound.

"That may be so," Jenova responded after a moment, and Tifa looked back to find that she was still being stared at. "But she has been a troublesome creature for far too long to change her ways now. She'll have to be put down."

Tifa realized that she might not be forced to live as a pet after all. Jenova still saw her as a threat, or held a grudge against her; either way, Tifa might be spared a few months' torment to satisfy the Queen. She took a deep breath, her glare softening a little, a strange mix of relief and fear fluttering inside her.

"Wait," Loz said quickly, with a small half step forward that caused both his brothers' heads to jerk toward him. He moved no further, but spread his hands helplessly. "Mother, please -"

The Queen closed her eyes and lowered her head, then arose from her seat with surprising speed, speaking as she moved. "She is too dangerous to keep, my son."

"But Mother, you said I could have her," Loz blurted out.

Tifa preferred the peace of resignation, but... here was Loz, the eldest of the Princes, arguing with his mother. That alone was unheard of, but to be arguing over _her_ - she would've thought that impossible if it hadn't been happening in front of her. She turned her head slightly so as to see him better, the gears of survival turning in her mind of their own accord. Maybe there was a chance. Maybe _he_ was the chance...

"And so you may," the Queen responded, her voice modulating so strangely that Tifa couldn't help but look. Tifa's lips parted in shock as the blue shade of Jenova's skin faded, her hair darkening and rearranging itself, her features becoming less sharp and more familiar. It was Tifa's own voice that finished the statement, and Tifa's body clad in Jenova's clothes that stepped toward Loz. It was Tifa's hand that lifted to touch Loz's face. "Whenever you like."

Loz stared at the vision that caressed his face, then ducked his head and nodded. "I get it," he said, a somewhat uncertain smile flashing across his features.

It felt like a knife twisting in her gut. So much for that chance.

"Besides," Jenova purred in the mimicked voice, moving closer to Tifa now. "You have two days to do as you wish with her. It will take that long for the rockets to be prepared. Then she will accompany me."

The experience of staring into her own face - without the aid of a mirror - was disconcerting enough to Tifa that it took her a moment to realize what the Queen meant. Jenova was having rockets prepared to take her to the vault on the moon. And she intended to take Tifa with her...

"Y-Your Majesty?" It was Yuffie that spoke up, her voice halting as though she were still uncertain of herself in this situation. "She would kill you even if it meant her own death. I don't think going into space alone with her is... um... feasible."

Even as she turned to the lady of Wutai, Jenova began to shift back to the form of the woman whose body she'd stolen, color bleeding through skin and hair as though liquid. The Queen smiled gently, her the shape of her lips subtly realigning as she did so. "Your concern is appreciated," she responded in an indulgent murmur, "But she will have no such opportunity. Besides, I have been assured that I will require her to open the vault. After that..." The fractured gaze turned back to Tifa. "I will leave her to the stars."

The room felt too silent, the cold of the marble underfoot seeming to flow up through Tifa to numb her limbs. Lowering her head, she closed her eyes, shoulders sagging. Resignation was so much easier.

Jenova made a pleased sound and returned to her throne, wearing her usual form again by the time she sat. "Two days, then."

* * *

The numb feeling did not abate, but Tifa was fine with that. She was escorted back to Loz's room, but she only sat on the edge of the bed and stared out of the windows, and tried not to think. If she thought, her mind wandered to all the things she might try to do to escape. All of them she now knew to be futile.

He'd never help her escape.

She wondered when she'd come to want to survive again at all.

Her mind wandered further and reminded her that it could be so much worse. Jenova could have absorbed her into the throne. And there was still room for fortune to favor the world - a problem with the rocket might destroy the Queen before she could return with the Black Materia. The Planet might still be saved to survive on its own for as long as it could.

Servants brought food for her - a more plentiful selection of delicacies than she'd seen since before Cloud had died. She only stared through the windows, facing away from the servants, until they left the trays of food on a table and left her alone again.

It was long hours later that Loz returned. He moved to her and held her and drew her down onto him on the bed, and when she could no longer stare through the window, she stared at the graceful ornamentation of the ceiling overhead, before she finally closed her eyes.

Some time after that, when he lay next to her without sleeping, she finally spoke his name, softer than she ever had before. He lifted his head quickly, and she let herself look into his face.

"I know you don't want me to die," she said quietly. "Help me get out of here."

His face twisted in shock and hurt and betrayal, and he left without speaking. She thought he might be crying.

He did not return that night. Tifa curled on her side, alone, and did not sleep.

In the morning, the door of the chamber opened, and a low voice called only when it had shut again. "Tifa?"

Lying on the bed, Tifa abruptly looked over her shoulder in shock. Of all the people to come to her, she had least expected Yuffie.

"I wanted to talk to you," the slight woman said uncertainly when Tifa made no response. She appeared as young and unguarded as she'd been six years ago, when she and Tifa had first met.

Yuffie came closer, and sat on the edge of the bed, her back to the other woman. "It's not what you think," she said quietly. "Meteor, I mean. It won't destroy the Planet. It'll hurt, but that's why summoning it to Wutai is best - it won't be destroying anything else, and there'll be tons of Mako there to heal the land once... once they leave. They don't need it all."

Tifa could only stare, but her face crumpled with concern, rather than the dim emptiness she'd shown for the past day. Yuffie truly believed what she was saying. It made everything clear: here was a girl forced into an adulthood more harsh than any she could've predicted, the very country she'd sought to restore now destroyed more completely than it had been during the Wutai War. Of course she was pursuing any hope, no matter how false, of repairing the damage. It was probably why she'd been helping Shinra look for Huge Materia, too - perhaps she'd thought of stealing them and using it on her land.

She hadn't broken when Kadaj took her. She'd broken when her continent had died. Kadaj had only recognized her desperation and taken advantage of it, and used her to get the information they needed.

And here was Yuffie clinging to the lies they'd fed her and calling it _Mako_ instead of _Lifestream_ as though thinking of it as simple energy, the way Shinra did, would make it all right.

"He's lying to you," Tifa murmured, forcing her voice through dry lips. "They're going to take the Planet's _life_, Yuffie. They don't have to take all of it for the Planet to die."

"Kadaj wouldn't lie to me," Yuffie responded, her voice suddenly taking on a harder edge. The girl that had come to see Tifa was replaced by a strong young woman again. She sighed. "I figured you wouldn't understand, but I had to try." She stood, finally turning to look at Tifa. "I don't hate you, okay? Not really. I miss Cloud too but I know it has to be so much worse for you. But that doesn't make you right and I'm sick of you getting in the way. At least you can't screw things up any more, now."

Yuffie left without further conversation. Tifa watched her go, and could think of nothing else to say, and wondered how right Yuffie really was.

Loz came back that evening, not long after the servants brought food and the sky began to burn with sunset. He did not greet her, only walked into her field of vision to get her attention, and waited until she made eye contact to speak.

"You said before that you couldn't be like me," he said quietly, though the clear way he spoke indicated that he'd probably rehearsed what he was saying. "I can't be like you either."

He looked surprised when she responded.

"It's all right."

At that moment, she could really believe that it was. She was powerless to stop any of this; maybe she shouldn't have, ever, in the first place. Why fight it?

He seemed incredulous at first, when she didn't flinch away as he touched her, but he quickly grew bolder. She matched his movements, letting her hands smooth over his warm skin for the sake of feeling him rather than as part of tolerating him. And though she still closed her eyes, she believed it was to better experience senses other than sight, rather than to escape him.

Because this was her end. She'd no choice but to accept that. This was the last time she would touch or be touched, so it would be the first time that she would do as _she_ pleased, even if it was _him_ she had to share it with. She wouldn't have another chance.

She didn't mean to open her eyes, when she was coming down from her climax, her fingers laced with his. But she did, and caught him staring up at her in wonder, before he remembered to keep moving and seek his own release. When his eyes fluttered shut and his straining beneath her stilled, she kept watching, her mouth open slightly with the stunning realization of how vulnerable he allowed himself to be with her.

He held her close afterward, stroking her hair in the darkness, and she lay against him and accepted his comfort.

"M'gonna miss you," he whispered, and the way his voice cracked, she wondered if he mightn't be crying again.

She said nothing in return.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	23. Earth Below Us, Drifting, Falling

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling.

(Of course, the version I'm listening to is the Shiny Toy Guns cover from the Lincoln car commercial. Look it up, it's a free download and quite awesome.)

* * *

**(23: Earth Below Us, Drifting, Falling)**

* * *

Before, when Tifa and Vincent had traveled to the orbital city, it had been a comparatively rushed operation - rockets kept ready for a journey of only a few hours. The journey to the moon was an entirely different matter.

Loz was gone when Tifa awoke in the morning, with no more goodbye than his words the night before. She tried to believe that it didn't matter. Though her heart was in her throat, she gave no sign, allowing the slaves to attend to her and tightly bind her hair and dress her in form-fitting thermal garments.

It seemed strange to her that it was not raining.

When the slaves brought her to the helipad on the roof, a Shinra helicopter was already waiting. Jenova sat primly inside, dressed as Tifa was and smiling unkindly.

At the controls, Yazoo managed to make the cramped space appear spacious enough to lounge in, while next to him Reno sat with his mouth drawn into a tight line. His lower lip was split and bleeding a little. When the Turk glanced up at Tifa, his expression was devoid of his usual good humor.

There was nothing anyone could do, at this point. Even if he could wrest the controls from Yazoo and wreck the helicopter, Reno would have no way of ensuring that the crash killed Jenova or Yazoo. Jenova had simply let it be known that should anything happen, to either Herself or Tifa, Her sons would destroy what little civilization was left on the Planet. Their passage was assured.

As the helicopter lifted off and swung away from the Tower, Tifa saw Yuffie, Kadaj, and Loz standing at one of the windows, but the distance was too great and the movement of the helicopter too swift for more than a glimpse. Kadaj had his arm around Yuffie, and they turned away, but Loz lingered until the helicopter turned away entirely.

The launch site in the Nibel Mountains had been well hidden, before Yuffie had given it away so that the Princes could pursue Vincent and Tifa to the orbital city. Reno clearly knew the way in spite of the difficult geography.

Tifa watched the mountains outside the windows becoming more and more sharp. The sight was almost comforting - they were moving into the kind of terrain she'd grown up in. When they landed and Shinra workers slid open the side of the helicopter, the blast of mountain air that flooded Tifa's senses was enough to make her breathe deeply.

How strange, that at the end she should come back here again - miles from Nibelheim but nevertheless in land she knew from her youth.

It was several more hours before the launch. Suited up and strapped into a seat in the lunar module, Tifa wished that she could sleep and let this all pass. Next to her, Jenova seemed to sleep, strange eyes closed and body incredibly still.

But sleep wouldn't come. The air seemed close - the ventilation wouldn't start full force until they were in space - and hunger began to gnaw at her a little. She tried to be still, but her hands seemed to tug experimentally at her straps of their own accord. They were already sealed in; it wasn't as though she could try to flee in any case.

Her fidgeting was not enough to distract her mind. She could hear Cloud's voice again, slipping between the circling thoughts of tightly controlled fear and resignation and despair. Cloud, murmuring her name with emotions that seemed to match her own, over and over.

"Be still, or I will make you still," Jenova said clearly, though only Her lips seemed to move.

Tifa hadn't realized the growing frenzy of her movements, and made an effort to calm herself. Gritting her teeth, she clung to the straps across her chest and resolutely stared up at the controls, and tried to ignore the tears that crawled from the corners of her eyes and the way her whole body seemed to tremble.

It struck her that the Queen Herself seemed willing to talk to her, and the pain of hope flared in her chest again. "You don't have to do this," she said abruptly, turning her head to see the woman next to her. "You don't need Meteor. You can have a rocket built for you and leave the Planet. You won't need the Lifestream at all."

Jenova laughed softly, Her dead violet lips pulling into a smirk. "With nothing but this lonely, fragile body for such a long journey? I think not." She opened Her eyes and turned Her fractured gaze to Tifa. "Now, what did I tell you?" She placed one finger to Her chin in mock concentration, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "Oh, yes." She lifted Her delicate hand, gesturing toward Tifa. "Sleep."

If only the Queen knew the gift She gave, Tifa thought before her mind sank away.

Tifa awoke to the slightlly sick feeling of weightlessness - the spell had kept her unaware of the actual launch entirely. But she'd barely come to before she heard the spell uttered again.

It was after the fourth Sleepel, with the Planet shrinking behind them, that Tifa realized that she no longer heard Cloud's voice. So her despair was so great that even her madness deserted her, she thought bitterly. So be it.

She wondered what she could do to get Jenova to keep casting the Sleep spells. Asking outright would undoubtedly cause Her to stop.

Jenova was not at all interested in Tifa's company, it seemed, though She ceased to lay the spells on so thickly after the first few. Perhaps she was conserving her energy - sleeping through the journey had been too much to hope for, Tifa supposed. But even the long silences with only the mechanical sounds of the spacecraft were a comfort.

Tifa wasn't even sure how far along in their journey they were; she'd completely lost her sense of time.

It was after another near-liquid meal that Tifa tried to speak again, curled into her seat in the cockpit and trying to be still. "Do you remember Vincent Valentine?"

Further back in the module, Jenova made a strange sound, almost a purr. "I remember many," She responded. Tifa took it to mean that either She didn't or She did but didn't care. Either way, it was one of the more openly conversational things the Queen had said so far.

"He loved you," Tifa said, prodding. She kept hoping that there was something she could say, somehow, that would turn Jenova's course and save the Planet.

The Queen laughed outright, a sweet and beautiful sound that Tifa could easily see being treasured by her friend. "Pathetic," Jenova managed after a moment. "You seek to sway me with _that?_ With dead, deluded love?" She laughed again.

Tifa opened her mouth to speak, regretting how transparent and malformed her plan had been - the Queen was not, after all, human, and seemed to have little in common with them emotionally. But Jenova's voice - nearer now - cut her off.

"My sons love me," She announced, Her voice losing its amusement. "My sons. My son. You took my first son from me; you'll not have another."

The Queen finished speaking directly behind Tifa, who closed her eyes, expecting another Sleep spell - at least she'd gained something by this interaction. But the word that left Jenova's lips this time made her involuntarily tense.

"Petrify."

Tifa tried to scream, but not a muscle moved.

As Jenova unfastened her restraints, there was nothing she could do. Her eyes were closed, but she was aware of the whisper of recycled air and the touch of cold hands and the bump of the seat as she was pulled free of it.

"To think such an imperfect thing has done so much damage to me and mine," Jenova hissed, and pushed, and sent Tifa flying further back into the craft. The Queen followed swiftly, swatting Tifa about the cabin like a cat playing with a toy.

Tifa could make no sound at the pain that jabbed through her each time she struck her surroundings, nor could her body do anything to relieve the rising nausea brought about by the sheer disorientation of the experience. She couldn't cry out or whimper or shield herself in any way. She couldn't speak. She could only listen to Jenova's laughter.

Tifa's head head struck something, and there was nothing but pain; even Jenova's ranting was drowned out. The swift loss of consciousness was a mercy.

He'd found them in the Forgotten Capital. After the destruction of Lucrecia's cavern, Avalanche had fled, and had eventually found themselves in that sacred place of seashells and silver trees. Weeks later, Sephiroth had struggled out of the forest on foot, and stumbled to the water, and lay there and called out for the Ancients to hear Him.

For a long while Tifa, Barrett, Nanaki, and Vincent had simply watched, unsure of what trickery this might be. They'd watched the black wing erupt from Sephiroth's bared back again and again, only to melt away into wet feathers each time as thick, clotted blood spilled from His mouth and His fingers dug into the ground. They'd watched Him scream and cry and beg, not for forgiveness, but for death.

Twice He'd rested, and soon had staggered to His feet and turned back to the forest, only to throw Himself down to clutch at the earth and shriek again. After the second time, His skin itself had seemed to split, bleeding dark. On the ground, His blood had tried to seep uphill, back into the forest - toward Midgar, far across land and ocean.

Vincent had realized then what was happening. Sephiroth was fighting Jenova's influence to the point of physical manifestation - perhaps more strongly than anyone else on the Planet could. Her cells within Him wanted Him to return to Her, but He refused, and it was killing Him.

He had looked up, when they approached, and Tifa had seen His tears and the strange relief in His face. He hadn't even asked them to simply kill him. He'd asked them to bind Him down and let Jenova's cells destroy Him.

Tifa still wondered if He'd thought He was performing some sort of penance, dying that way, or if He'd expected to survive. It didn't matter. He'd died, His body ripped apart from the inside. It had been graceless and inelegant and pitiful, and not at all the end anyone had foreseen for the Nightmare that had destroyed so much of the Planet.

He'd been looking at her when His feline eyes had finally glazed and rolled and His mangled body had gone slack.

They'd burned the body, but by that point, the Shinra helicopters had descended. Jenova Herself had come and sought out the dying cells Her son had left, and had known who to blame. Rufus Shinra had seen to that, in his bid to keep Jenova focused on Tifa instead of the Black Materia. AVALANCHE had barely escaped.

It had been luck, and nothing else, that had brought Sephiroth to them to die. The only explanation He'd given them was that Jenova - He'd called her by name then - was not what He'd thought. Tifa had always wondered what had finally led him to that fatal conclusion.

She awoke, her head and body aching, but only after another hour could she force her fingers to move. But as soon as she managed to groan and shift her position, the spell was cast on her again.

It was breaking; each time she managed to move again, to escape the thoughts and memories that plagued her, the spell was cast again. The pain was bearable - it was something, not the vast horrifying _nothing_ of the Petrify spell. But the hours upon hours of deadened senses clawing into her and telling her over and over how she'd failed, how it was her fault, how helpless she was... there was no escape from it, and she became lost in it.

She tried once, between spells, to beg for Sleepel instead. Jenova only laughed.

She lost track of how many times it happened.

She lost track of time.

She couldn't even comprehend what was happening when she felt strange jolts and shaking. Everything went still, even the engines winding down as their power was cut. The loss of their constant drone was frightening, but Tifa could no longer remember why.

"Tifa?"

She felt relaxed, suddenly, and couldn't think of why she'd been so tense before. A nightmare, maybe... the memory of disintegrating black wings and blood fluttered at the edges of her mind.

"You'll come help me, won't you? You remember what we need to do?"

Tifa turned her head slightly, feeling... oddly light, or oddly heavy, she wasn't sure which. But she recognized the woman kneeling next to her seat, smiling kindly and watching her with large green eyes.

"Aeris," Tifa murmured, surprised at how dry her lips were, as though she'd been breathing through her mouth for hours. "There's something... wrong. In my head."

"It's all right," the other woman responded, reaching out to stroke Tifa's cheek with cold fingers. "You'll feel better soon. Right now it's time to go outside." Aeris turned away, stepping lightly toward the module's airlock and opening a panel in the wall. "There's a suit for you here," she said, beckoning.

Tifa nodded, but still tried to remember what it was that she was supposed to know was wrong. Her head felt as though it were wrapped in wet wool, all sounds strangely muted - almost as though she'd had a Confuse spell cast on her. Maybe that was it. It would be all right, though. Aeris would help her.

She pulled on the bulky exterior suit without complaint, forgetting to even wonder where she was that it should be necessary. The attention needed for the task kept her mind entirely occupied. Soon, she stepped into the small airlock after Aeris, their helmets sealed over their heads.

When the outer door opened, the bleak, jagged landscape outside was enough to make Tifa pause.

This... this was... blocking the open door, Tifa blinked and shook her head. No. The moon? She shouldn't be here. No one should be here.

She felt the pressure of a hand on the back of her arm. "It's all right," Aeris' voice came through the suit's intercom. "This is where we need to be. It's just over that rise there. We have to go."

It made sense. Tifa began to remember a little - she felt heavy because she'd spent the last few days without gravity, but light because of the moon having less gravity than the Planet. It was a little reassuring to figure one thing out.

The craft had landed on the flat surface of a crater, and they crossed the distance to the crater's edge in wide bounds; Tifa found herself smiling a little. Something in the back of her mind told her that she shouldn't enjoy this, that something was terribly wrong, but she shut it away. She was helping Aeris and they were doing something amazing; what wasn't to enjoy about that?

As they neared what seemed to be a path at the rim of the crater, she began to notice other footprints in the airless dust of the moon's surface. Many others. They were all identical to her own - clearly made by the same kind of suits.

Aeris reached the top of the crater's rim first, and paused. "Ah. Of course." Her voice came over the intercom again, but she sounded harsh and cold and unlike herself.

Tifa slowed her ascent and blinked a few times, suddenly uneasy. "What is it?" She asked, before she came to the top of the rise and saw for herself.

Perhaps a mile away, at the base of a thousand-foot cliff that curved as far to either side as Tifa could see, was what seemed to be a definite man-made structure.

Well, perhaps not _man_-made. The pyramid, composed of the same pale gray rock as the terrain around it, appeared very similar to the Temple of the Ancients.

Rufus Shinra hadn't had a vault built for him on the moon - he'd simply had an existing structure modified.

"Filthy things," Aeris muttered.

Tifa squeezed her eyes shut, her head suddenly pounding. Something was wrong. Aeris seemed wrong, and there was something about Rufus and his vault and why they were on the moon...

But her friend turned to her again, and she could see the other woman's kind face within her sun-shielded helmet. "Let's go," she called, beginning to walk toward the Lunar Temple.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	24. JENOVA Celestial

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is from the instrumental track "JENOVA Celestial" (a remix of the J-E-N-O-V-A theme in Final Fantasy VII) from the _Voices of the Lifestream_ fan remix collection, from OverClocked ReMixes (ocremix dot org). I also recommend "Chasing the Storm" (a remix of the Temple of the Ancients theme) from that collection for this chapter. (Seriously, go look that collection up, it's fantastic.)

* * *

**(24: JENOVA Celestial)**

* * *

Six years ago, just before things had gotten really bad, before Cloud had died, AVALANCHE had found the Temple of the Ancients. Both Sephiroth - or rather, the projection of him that had probably, in retrospect, been more Jenova than Sephiroth - and Shinra's Turks had gotten there first, but it had been AVALANCHE that entered. Using the Keystone, they had unlocked the Temple and had been teleported into its vast interior.

When Tifa and her companion finally reached the entrance at the top of the pyramid, it became clear that this Lunar Temple had been built for a different purpose. The Temple of the Ancients had been created to house and protect the Black Materia, but this structure was nothing but a facade - an entrance into the cliff face.

The thick metal door that closed off the passage at the top was clearly a new addition. The alcove seemed strangely lit, and it took Tifa a moment to realize that red light that gleamed above the door's control panel was the only color at all in the stark silver landscape.

Aeris stepped forward, keying a simple numeric code into the control panel, and the light changed to green as the door slowly opened. There was no sound - no air to carry it - but Tifa could feel the vibration of the moving machinery through the stone underfoot.

After glancing back at Tifa and smiling, Aeris walked inside. Electric lights automatically flickered on, illuminating what seemed to be a long passage, Cetra frescos lining the walls.

Tifa turned and looked out from the top of the temple for a moment, gazing out over the cratered silver plains with the Planet shining in the black sky overhead. The colorful Planet held her attention for a moment more, as she tried to remember what the black streak in the ocean was and why it reminded her of the scent of ash. Then she turned and followed Aeris inside.

The frescos were distracting as well. Tifa remembered the fire-lit wall carvings in the Temple of the Ancients, depicting how the Black Materia had summoned Meteor and nearly destroyed the Planet so long ago, colored in warm gold and shadow. Here, under electric lights, tiny chips of stone in shades of gray - arranged together in the same distinctive artistic style - showed a different story.

Humanoid figures - the Cetra - walked the stars, reaching a world with one moon. They sat upon the Moon with arms upraised and the world - the Planet - ran with veins of green that could only represent Lifestream - the only differently colored stone that Tifa saw, though the color was muted and faint. The next part of the wall showed the Planet and the Moon with Cetra standing on both, the beings on the Moon still with arms raised toward the Planet. It seemed that their cultivation of the Planet had been at least partly orchestrated from the Moon.

The tunnel abruptly ended with another fresco, showing the Planet surrounded by Cetra with joined hands, with the Moon in different phases in a circle around that, in a concentric ring design.

Aeris did not hesitate - indeed, she gave no sign that she took any note of the artwork whatsoever. She simply kept moving forward, passing through the final fresco as though it didn't exist. Tifa paused, reaching out but finding nothing to touch - the wall was an illusion. She wondered, for some reason, if Aeris had seen it at all.

Walking through, Tifa entered a vast black expanse - a cavern with walls too far away to be seen by the blue-white electric lights that Shinra had left. Set into the rock to one side of the false wall she'd just come through was a mooring for a heavy cable that stretched up and away, its far end invisible. The floor continued on as a narrow path with no walls whatsoever, sloping upward and curving into darkness. More lights glimmered here and there, so far off as to seem like stars.

Like stars. Like a constellation. Tifa recognized the Blue Dragon of the East, a familiar Spring constellation that could be seen from Nibelheim.

She remembered sitting on the water tower with Cloud, so many years ago...

She found herself missing her madness that had at least allowed her to hear his voice and even see him again.

"Hurry up," Aeris said over the intercom, and Tifa smiled at the teasing tone in her voice before following her up the path.

Just past the first of the electric lights, all of the lights winked out, plunging the cavern into near-complete darkness. Automatic sensors in the women's suits activated small lights in the helmets, both lamps to see by and small, dim lights inside to illuminate their faces.

Tifa instantly sank into a more balanced stance, the sudden change triggering a fight response - it took a moment before she realized that she was straining her ears for the sound of some creature approaching in the darkness. Luckily, though there was no air in which to hear a monster coming, there were no monsters, either.

"It changes nothing," Aeris announced, her tone a little sharp. "Keep moving."

Blinking and shaking her head for a moment, trying unsuccessfully to clear her mind, Tifa followed. She watched her footing carefully, feeling a little dizzy.

The small pool of radiance at her feet, from the lamps on her helmet, actually helped her to focus. Shinra had placed the lights to mark their path, hadn't they? Why would they go out like that? Maybe they'd tripped some kind of sensor. This was a vault, she remembered. A place protected by traps and puzzles, just like the Temple of the Ancients had been on the Planet. But Shinra had made these puzzles, not the Ancients. Trying to remember the solutions from the Temple of the Ancients would probably be of no help.

Aeris came to a halt; Tifa didn't stop until she saw the heels of Aeris' suit in her headlamps.

"Now which way?" The last Cetra asked expectantly, turning to look at Tifa. The stone path branched, each way wending off into the dark. At the point where they branched, another deactivated Shinra light sat.

Tifa knelt, looking for the light's cords, but it had only a battery pack and remote sensor. She'd been right - this was a puzzle. Before they'd started on the path, the lights had looked like the constellation of the Blue Dragon of the East...

East. If you faced North, East was to the right. Nearly all maps were oriented like that.

"To the right," Tifa decided. "Every time there's a choice, go to the right." That was a thorough way to solve any maze anyway; they could always backtrack if it didn't pan out.

"If you say so," Aeris murmured, before leading the way again.

Tifa wondered how odd this must be for Aeris, to be in a place the Cetra had made, but to not be able to hear their whispers from the Lifestream. There was no Lifestream here, so far from the Planet, after all. She blinked slowly, something important sparking in her mind, but the ember died before she could catch hold of it.

The path curved left and right, rising steeply in steps or sloping gently downward, passing under itself through tall archways that seemed grown from stalactites and stalagmites - though Tifa didn't think the Moon had ever known the water that would have been necessary to form such structures. The stonework seemed strangely organic, curling and often unsupported, like vines. Occasionally, there were glimpses of shapes looming off in the darkness, down other branches of the path - shapes like massive seashells. It struck Tifa that they were walking the streets of a Cetra city more forgotten than their capital, and she wondered how Aeris felt about that, too.

There was something about Aeris and the Forgotten Capital that Tifa thought she ought to remember...

Finally, the wall of the edge of the cavern loomed in the light their suits provided, a set of recently carved stairs set into it and leading upward. At the top of the stairs they reached a broad platform jutting out from the wall. It looked like concrete, but it was very dark in color - a near-black in contrast to the blue-gray of the stone path they'd just traveled.

"That wasn't so bad," Tifa murmured, looking back down the stairs. The electric lights still hadn't reactivated; she vaguely wondered how they'd return, once they retrieved what they were after in the vault.

What they were after...

"Hn." Aeris paced to the edge of the platform, looking out into the dark, then stood with a strange stillness. "There's another platform out there."

Tifa walked to her companion's side and stared out into the darkness in the direction Aeris was looking. "I don't see anything," she said, frowning. The lamps of their helmets only spread light so far.

"You wouldn't," Aeris responded simply, taking a few steps back. "My eyes are better than yours." Without further comment, she seemed to gather herself, her emerald gaze intent - then ran forward, leaping from the edge.

Had they been on the Planet, the jump would have been suicidal - but here on the Moon, the lowered gravity made it possible. Nevertheless, Tifa gasped and instinctively reached out as her friend leapt into the open space, with nothing to catch her but the invisible path and floor of the cavern an unknown distance below.

Something suddenly gleamed in the lights of her suit, and Aeris stopped, her light seeming to hover in mid-air. Tifa could just barely make out the surface beneath her - another platform like the one she stood on, made of dark concrete and suspended from chains anchored somewhere in the darkness above.

"Coming?" Aeris' voice piped through the intercom, sounding as though she were right next to Tifa.

With only a moment's pause, Tifa mimicked her companion's jump, and felt the platform beneath her sway under the impact of her landing. "Good call," she nodded. "See any more of these?"

"A smaller one, forward, closer," Aeris answered promptly, apparently unphased by the swaying. "And one like this one, to the right."

"Right it is," Tifa nodded as she steadied herself. It couldn't hurt to assume that the right-hand rule was still in effect, could it? "I think I can see that one."

"You go first," Aeris suggested pleasantly.

Without thinking, Tifa readied herself and jumped, ignoring the dark under her as best she could. The next platform appeared in the light her headlamps cast, and she landed solidly on both feet.

The platform tilted, a sharp vibration running through it, and one corner of it swung down. Tifa didn't have time to cry out - she fell.

The path they'd just traveled loomed up under her, and she landed safely with a grunt. The twenty feet would have been a dangerous distance on the Planet, but was far less of a problem on the Moon.

"I'm all right," she called, though Aeris hadn't so much as called out. Rolling onto her back - made difficult by the space suit's air pack - she could see her friend's suit's lights above, as well as the bottom of another platform. The path didn't extend under that one. She'd been lucky this time. "Give me a minute to get back up there."

Aeris said nothing until Tifa joined her on the first suspended platform again. "I'll be rather annoyed if that one breaks as well," she muttered, making way for Tifa to jump to the other platform.

Her companion's brusque attitude made Tifa frown, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong. Maybe it was the fact that there was no Lifestream here that had Aeris out of sorts. "It should be good," she said reassuringly, mulling over the idea she'd had while making her way back up. The path below had been the Blue Dragon of the East, and these concrete platforms - Shinra-made, obviously - were nearly black. Could it be so simple...?

She leapt, and the next platform held. Hanging on to one of the support chains, Tifa waited for the platform to stop swaying, then reached out to her friend. "Come on."

The other woman landed neatly on the platform next to her, ignoring her extended hand. She stood, surveying the surroundings with her sharper eyes. "One platform straight ahead, another to the left."

Tifa nodded, one suspicion confirmed. "We should go left."

Aeris turned toward her with an unreadable expression. "Why? Are we always to go left now?"

Tifa shook her head. "It's another of the mythical animal constellations. Since the platforms are black, I'm guessing it's the Black Turtle of the North. If we follow the platforms so that our path makes the symbol of the turtle, we should get..." She stumbled over her words, something important but unremembered at the edge of her mind. "Get where we're going," she finished.

Where _were_ they going? The vault. Yes. Into the vault; she knew that.

What was in the vault?

Aeris regarded her strangely for a long moment. "If you say so," she finally nodded. "You first."

Tifa suspected that Aeris doubted her logic right up until they reached the pale floor of a wide alcove in the far wall of the cavern. But, she supposed, jumping from one suspended platform to the next in vast blackness was probably enough to make anyone a little worried. It felt good to have solid stone underfoot again.

There was some sort of machinery set into the wall next to the metal door at the back of the alcove, with a heavy cable running diagonally down into the cavern. It took Tifa only a moment to realize that she was looking at a zipline with a few grips - probably the same cable as the one she'd seen anchored near the entrance. At least getting back out of the Lunar Temple would be easier.

Aeris did not compliment Tifa on her success - she only moved to the control panel next to the door and keyed in another numeric code.

With a rumble of machinery felt through the floor, the mechanical door opened, its halves retracting into the walls. As soon as the door had completely opened, bright white electric lights in the corridor beyond flickered to life.

Tifa blinked at the sudden light, raising a hand to shield her eyes. Her heavily gloved hand bumped against the shield of her helmet. "I'm going to guess that this next part will have to do with the White Tiger of the West." She lowered her hand as her eyes adjusted. "Who knew Rufus Shinra was so into mythology."

"I'm not surprised," Aeris muttered. "I'm not."

The heavy door automatically whirred closed behind them after they entered the tunnel. The chamber seemed to be about a hundred feet long, with rounded walls and a flat floor - recently excavated, with the concrete of the floor smoothed and the walls freshly plastered.

As they walked further into the tunnel, however, it became obvious that its length was an illusion. It was actually much shorter, and conical instead of cylindrical - the opening at the far end was a hole a few feet in diameter.

The environmental suits were too bulky to fit through the smaller hole. Tifa crouched to look through, and could see that the room opened out again beyond, ending in another metal door like the one they'd come through.

Aeris huffed in irritation, turning to head back the way they'd come. "This is a trap," she grumbled. "Your method has led us astray."

Tifa frowned, mulling it over as she followed. It had all made sense right up until this. It wasn't a cave-in; the room had intentionally been made like that. There had to be some way through...

Upon returning to the door to the cavern, they found the switch for it on the interior side - but no matter what they did, the door would not open.

Frustrated, Aeris kicked at the door, and her reaction surprised Tifa enough to prevent her from behaving similarly. Tifa only stood to the side, watching and trying to figure out what was wrong with her friend's behavior.

Aeris sat down against the wall, scowling with a strange ferocity. Tifa looked away and began to pace, trying to think and ignore her friend's uncharacteristic rage.

Maybe some wall was an illusion like the one before? Tifa walked the length of the chamber and back, her hand scraping slightly as she felt along all of the walls, but they all remained solid and real. A kick to the wall near the smaller opening revealed that it was not a mere plaster construct.

Wait - plaster? How would plaster dry in an airless vacuum? It depended on the air to evaporate the water from it, right?

Tifa looked again at the narrow opening that their bulky suits couldn't fit through. Maybe that was the point - _no_ environmental suit could fit through. They could only fit if they took the suits off. That meant there had to be air here - that would explain why the door to the cavern had sealed behind them. This was an airlock.

There were no loose stones to throw to see if they made a sound, but she thought she could hear the tapping of her hand against the wall. There was only one way to be certain.

She reached up to the latches of her helmet.

Aeris was on her feet in an instant. "What are you doing!"

The latch on the right unfastened with a clunk and a hiss. Tifa took a deep breath, though she knew better than to try to hold her breath, if it was still vacuum outside of her suit. If that were the case, she'd just have to get the helmet back on as quickly as possible and hope that she didn't lose too much of her breathable air.

The latch on the left side was next. Though Aeris came near and watched, she was still, making no move to stop Tifa.

Tifa breathed deep again, exhaled, took the helmet in both hands, and lifted it up.

There was no rush of escaping air around her face. She took another breath.

The air smelled of fresh plaster.

"It's okay," she almost laughed, smiling at Aeris. "This is one big airlock. I think that was the test." She nodded to herself. "That's right. The White Tiger has to do with courage. Makes sense."

After hesitating for only a moment, Aeris followed suit, cautiously lifting her helmet from her head. She wrinkled her nose, then smiled - though the expression lacked the kindness that Tifa associated with her friend. "So to go on, we leave the suits here. We must be close."

Stripped down to only the close-fitting thermal clothing again, it was easy to step through the constricted passage. Opening the door to the next chamber was as simple as toggling the switch.

The next room seemed to be entirely metal, twenty feet wide and maybe a hundred long. The lighting was strange - glowing red bars were set into the walls near the ceiling.

Tifa frowned, studying the area before moving further inside. Strange perforations riddled the walls, ceiling, and floor. Her eyes narrowed.

Before she could give any word of caution, Aeris passed her by a few steps, crossing one of the lines of perforations. Tifa reached out and yanked her back, glad to be rid of the bulky suits - she wouldn't have been able to grip her friend's thin arm had they been wearing the suits.

It was only just in time that she pulled Aeris back to her side. The metal surroundings rumbled, large sections of the floor pulling away to reveal dark, open air beneath. The door behind them sealed shut, and gouts of red chemical flame suddenly erupted from the perforations, firing in a repeating pattern.

"Red Phoenix of the South," Tifa gasped out.

* * *

**Further Author's Note:**

By the way, I hear that Square-Enix recently bought Eidos (makers of the _Tomb Raider_ series). What can I say... I find the timing of this merger amusing, given that it happened while I was working on what may be the most video-game-like chapter of this whole video-game-based fanfic. XD

More to come! This sequence simply got so long that I had to break it up into a couple of chapters.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	25. Try Not To Fall While Flying

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

And now a fandom service announcement from the author.

ADVENT CHILDREN COMPLETE. Oh my dear sweet lord, there's mostly-naked Loz. Also, he's got the only onscreen kiss in the entire thing. I SWEAR TO THE DIETY OF YOUR CHOICE, I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. It comes out in June in North America. BUY IT AND THANK SQUARE ENIX FOR THE GLORY THEY HAVE GIVEN US, HALLELUJA.

*pants, calms down* Ahem. Thank you.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Inner Universe" by Origa (the _Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex_ season one theme song).

* * *

**(25: Try Not To Fall While Flying, Nor Forget How To Dream)**

* * *

"Red Phoenix of the South," Tifa gasped out, as though the designation for the room should explain everything.

But Aeris snarled as she shook her arm free of Tifa's grasp. "You will not touch me so again!"

Tifa stared at her friend for a moment, stunned. She'd just saved Aeris and... and... And shouldn't her companion's hair look darker than that, even in this lighting?

Aeris moved back, her bare hand slapping Tifa's back and pushing her forward. "Go. Fix it."

Brow furrowed, Tifa turned to study the changed room, heated air currents causing hairs that had escaped her braid to drift around her head as though she were in zero-gravity again. It only took her a few moments to begin to recognize the sequence to the jets of fire, and a few more minutes to become confident of the way through.

She glanced down. Most of the floor had been drawn away, revealing only darkness below. She swallowed - she'd have to time her jumps well to get through, as well as taking the difference in gravity into account. Overshooting her target would be just as fatal as lingering too long.

"What are you waiting for?" Aeris snapped.

Something was wrong. Really wrong. Tifa bit her lip.

"Well?"

Tifa took several steps back, glancing only once at Aeris before looking away and focusing on the fires again. This was easy. She could do this. She could fly like the Red Phoenix of the South.

Phoenix.

Phoenix King.

Her eyes closed of their own accord. A saffron cloak, sand...

She shook her head to clear it, opened her eyes and focused again, and ran. And jumped.

And soared.

Her muscles seemed to delight in the heat and lowered gravity. Flame lanced out ahead of her and behind her, then the platform she'd landed on shot fire - but she'd already leapt to the next, then the next. A few seconds' pause to gage the next jump was all she needed as she cris-crossed the chamber, cutting a few jumps shorter by pushing off of the ceiling or changing direction by kicking from the walls.

Almost there. She could see the far end of the room, where another set of metal doors waited for her.

Pain suddenly seared across her thigh.

She realized her distraction too late, and cried out as she flailed and caught the edge of the next platform, her jump cut short by the way her body seized in pain. Her side thudded heavily against the stone pillar supporting the platform, but in the lesser gravity, her fingers' grip did not shift.

Panting, Tifa hung where she was, trying to fight down the overwhelming pain. The heated metal of the platform burned her fingers, but she couldn't change her grip. She could smell burnt meat - her own leg - and she didn't want to think about it.

But it wasn't only the pain the made her whimper. She closed her eyes.

It wasn't Aeris, back at the door of the chamber waiting for her. It couldn't be, because Aeris was dead. Long dead. She'd died before Cloud.

Cloud, Tifa's paladin who would come and save her if she was ever in trouble she couldn't handle on her own... who couldn't because he was dead. Dead by her own hand.

But she'd been in trouble. She'd fallen from the sky, she'd climbed the Gold Saucer as a WEAPON tore it apart, she'd walked the desert, she'd fought and lost, she'd been captured...

And _he'd_ taunted her and kept her going and rescued her and healed her and shared with her. Loz had been the source of most of her trouble since they'd escaped the Orbital city, but he'd also gotten her out of a lot of it, too. He'd healed her when she'd lost to him. He'd stayed with her when he could have left and had taken her with him when he did leave.

He'd hurt her in ways she hadn't thought she could be hurt, opened ancient wounds and cut new ones, and he'd done it trying to be closer to her. And it had been her choice to let him get as close as he had, hadn't it.

Maybe she'd needed to hurt and bleed. Nothing else had gotten her blood to flow again, after she'd been frozen and empty for so long. No one else had done it. Vincent had tried, but he'd been as paralyzed as she had.

Loz had taken her into her enemy's lair, and she'd seen the small differences that could become rifts between them. The royal family wasn't the solid, impenetrable force that it appeared to be. They - their threat - could be overcome. Maybe that hadn't been the case when Loz had attacked her on the space station, but it was now - now that he'd been with her for so long.

It was almost as though he'd been burned away when they'd fallen from orbit, in the fire of re-entry, only to rise again in a new form. Changed.

The Planet could still be saved. It was no longer impossible.

If she could just get back _to_ the Planet.

Her whimpering had stopped, and she hung limp, breathing deep and calm.

Tifa opened her eyes.

Another burst of flame shot over the platform she clung to - she could feel the added heat of it on her fingers. As soon as it retreated, she braced with her left foot - she wasn't ready to move her burned right leg yet, but she'd have to - and pushed herself up. She gained the platform just in time to jump to the next, the fire barely missing her as she leapt.

It seemed easier, all of a sudden. The pain seemed to sharpen her senses - the jumps were easier to gage, her motions quicker. By the time she reached the last platform - too far from the area in front of the door at the far end of the chamber to leap - she knew what to do.

Flame licked at her heels as she leapt into the air, not toward the door, but toward the wall. Her feet barely touched the vertical metal before she ran several steps, then pushed off again, even as flame erupted from the metal where her feet had just been.

She flipped in the air, landing gracefully for all of a second before her right leg gave out. Tifa groaned, curling over the wound and finally getting a glimpse of the burn before she closed her eyes to block out the sight. Well, she thought ruefully, she'd known the adrenalin rush wouldn't last long, hadn't she.

After a few moments she was able to look up again. The metal door was in front of her, and to either side of it were dark alcoves.

She shook as she pushed herself up, leaning heavily on her left leg. The alcove on the left was closer; she made her way to it and looked inside.

It contained no control panel for either the door or to reset the room - only a Shinra-issue Hi-Potion.

Tifa nearly laughed, grabbing the bottle and cracking it open over her wound without hesitation. She had to grit her teeth at the sting of mending flesh, and she collapsed to the floor again, but her leg was soon as good as ever. The only remaining sign of the burn was the wide gash in her thermal clothing where the material had melted away, the edges charred in stark contrast to her pale skin. A Restore spell could've repaired that as well, but she'd no such luxury.

She moved to the alcove on the right side of the door, expecting to find the control panel there, but the space seemed to be empty. Maybe it was another illusion, Tifa thought, reaching inside.

Something in the dark alcove suddenly jabbed into the back of her hand. Tifa yelped and pulled her hand away, but there was nothing but a pinprick of blood to be seen.

She barely had time to fear that it had been another trap, this one some sort of injection that the Hi-Potion had been meant to counter, before she was proven wrong. The gouts of fire behind her abruptly ceased, the full floor returning in a mechanical cacophony. The wide doors split open, revealing a dark room beyond.

"Took you long enough." Still wearing Aeris' form, Jenova moved swiftly toward the newly opened door, thermal stockings protecting Her feet from the heated metal underfoot.

The woman smiled frostily at Tifa as she passed through the door, but Tifa only smiled back. She had reason to smile now.

Once again, when they'd both entered the next room, the door behind them shut. Tifa tensed slightly.

"What now?" Jenova asked in the darkness, Aerith's voice sounding shrill when used so sharply.

"I don't know," Tifa admitted. "There are only the four celestial animals." Maybe this room would be connected to some other constellation?

There was a sudden whirring noise that made her jump, and a dim green glow appeared near the center of the room and began to grow brighter. Tifa thought of Mako for a moment, but the glow was not from Lifestream - only from a simple green-on-black computer screen on a pedestal in the center of the square room.

She moved closer so that she could read the text that appeared on the screen. The first line was almost a shock, but she quickly realized why her name was written there. The jab to the back of her hand had probably been the machinery taking a blood sample to confirm her identity; Rufus had planned for the possibility that she'd come here all along. At the second line, however, she simply stopped and stared.

"Tifa Lockhart:

What were his last words to you?"

The cursor blinked a few lines below that, and she could see a keyboard mounted in front of the monitor on the pedestal, but Tifa simply stood and stared.

Jenova stepped closer and read over her shoulder. "His? What does this mean?" She huffed, moving away again, agitated with anticipation. "Just answer it, you're supposed to know."

"I do know," Tifa said softly. And so did Rufus. He'd been there, in the Northern Crater, and had heard Cloud's final words to her as well as she had, just before she'd killed him.

Her hands felt heavy as she lifted them to the keyboard, each keystroke as damning as the fall of Meteor itself.

"Maybe one day you'll meet the real Cloud."

She said the words aloud, whispering, as she typed, and stared at them a moment longer before she hit the Enter key.

The monitor blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The entire wall opposite the door shifted open, breaking into quarters. The moment its surface cracked, bright light filtered through.

Tifa closed her eyes and lowered her head. When she looked again, Jenova was stepping forward into the newly revealed half of the room. It was brilliantly lit, every panel of the walls and floor and ceiling lit from within, and in the center was a simple glass pedestal.

Jenova's hands reached toward the object on the pedestal, caressing without touching as She made a small, pleased sound. Then She took it in Her hands and held it to Her chest as a mother might a child, and Aerith's lips twisted into a sickening, gentle smile.

"You can stop wearing her face now," Tifa said calmly. "It's disrespectful."

The lips drew tighter, skin shading dead blue in mere moments. Jenova lifted Her face to regard Tifa like a satisfied cat. "It's not as though it matters any longer, is it," She responded. "Though it was worth it, to have your mind set to the task, instead of having to listen you harp at me the entire time."

She turned and walked swiftly back past Tifa, still holding the Black Materia to Her breast. "Let's be on our way, then. Be mindful of any traps on the way out, will you? And don't forget..." She paused at the door and looked over Her shoulder at Tifa, Her face half hidden by silvery forelocks. "Should I not return to the Planet safely, there will be little of the Planet for you to return to."

Leaving the Lunar Temple was a simple matter; the most difficult part was getting back into the environmental suits in the room of the White Tiger. That was the first moment that Jenova set the Black Materia down and Tifa got a good look at it.

Tifa had handled the Black Materia before. She'd gotten a good look at it. It had been a polished black sphere, strangely heavy, carved with swirling Cetra designs.

The designs on this orb were raised in relief, not carved in. Tifa wondered if it was her memory or the Black Materia that lied.

Back at the entrance of the Lunar Temple and breathing recycled air again, Tifa looked up at the Planet in the sky. Home. It was up to her to save it, wasn't it?

Would Loz really work to destroy the world if Jenova failed to return?

She'd have to risk it. Jenova was already a little ways down, descending the steps of the Lunar Temple; Tifa took a running start and threw herself forward, barreling right into Her.

Jenova let out a screech that caused the suits' intercoms to warble with feedback. Despite the encumbering suit, Tifa struck several blows with unrelenting force as they tumbled down the steps. Something in Jenova's air pack gave with a small hiss.

Tifa disengaged and reached for the Black Materia in Jenova's gloved hands. Jenova's grip was strong, but the force of their tumbling ripped Her hands away. Tifa leapt free as they reached the bottom, landing several feet away.

She didn't hesitate - she threw the Black Materia as far out into the silver plain as she could.

Jenova screamed. Tifa turned to see the Queen drawing a long, narrow, sharp dagger from a hidden pocket in Her suit's thigh.

She tried to twist away, but there was little she could do in the environmental suit. Jenova leapt over her, turning in the air, and knocked her flat on her back. The dagger came down in the same motion.

Pain shot through Tifa again, but it wasn't a killing blow. The blade jabbed down into her arm, and through, and out the other side. And deep into the rocky ground. Jenova shoved the knife down to the hilt, pinning Tifa.

Not a killing blow - except that it ripped through Tifa's suit and she was losing air.

Laughing, Jenova moved back a step - then raised Her hand, aiming a spell at Tifa's arm. The shock to Tifa was that the glow of the spell was green, but she quickly understood why.

"There," Jenova murmured, panting a little. Her Restore spell sealed the suit around the blade, but left Tifa's arm inside bleeding, and left her staked to the ground. If she tried to rip free, she'd damage her suit again in the process.

"Stay," the Queen commanded, before simply walking off, out into the cratered surface of the Moon.

Tifa tried not to struggle, though the instinct to try to pull away from the pain was strong. She had to stay still. Only staying still would preserve the suit and keep her alive.

She could hear Jenova mumbling to herself, over the intercom, for what felt like a long time. Maybe She wouldn't find the Black Materia again at all... but her mumbling was suddenly cut short by a delighted cry, and Tifa's heart sank.

Jenova did not approach her victim again. She simply began the long trek back to the landing module. It took Tifa a while to realize what was happening.

She was going to be left here. Alive. So that she'd simply run out of air...

There were a few moments of blind panic, during which she still remembered not to move.

"Jenova!" She called out hoping that the intercom wasn't out of range yet. "Hey!"

After a moment, she heard the Queen's cruel voice again. "Have you realized yet that I'm leaving you here?"

Tifa didn't answer. As flat as she could be on her back with the bulky air pack under her, she stared up at the Planet and smiled with a little cruelty of her own.

"Tell your son I'll miss him too."

The intercom shut off, but not before Tifa heard a shocked and disgusted hiss escape the Queen's lips. She held on to her smile a little while longer before closing her eyes, heart pounding.

She vaguely hoped that the damage to Jenova's suit might cause Her to run out of air before she could return to the module, but she doubted that fate would favor the Planet so well at this point.

She opened her eyes some time later; she wasn't certain how long it was. She knew that Jenova, and her only chance of returning to the Planet, was long gone.

The Planet still loomed overhead.

Another wave of panic washed over her, but this time she pounded her free hand on the ground, screaming an angry stream of obscenities that would have impressed even Cid.

There was no one to hear.

How long would the air in her suit last? How much had she lost?

The Planet hung in the darkness, still and peaceful from here.

"You can't come, can you," she murmured softly, thinking of Cloud. He was long gone, returned to the Lifestream, and she was too far away for him to hear her. Far away from the Lifestream itself. Even her madness had left her; she'd never hear Cloud's voice again...

Wait.

Tifa made a slight choked sound, followed by another, her mouth splitting wide.

She began to laugh. All these years, she'd thought herself mad, but it really had been Cloud's voice she'd heard, hadn't it. He'd been there, whispering from the Lifestream, looking out for her. He'd appeared in the Tower the first time she'd been captured and had helped her escape. He'd told her not to let Loz die. He'd appeared when she'd been about to die and caused her to speak the words that had stopped Loz from killing her - the words that had changed everything.

Cloud had still been her knight even though she'd killed him.

And she'd never figured it out.

And now it was too late. She couldn't even be reunited with him in death. She wouldn't return to the Lifestream - if she couldn't hear him now, she was surely too far away to return herself.

She wasn't sure when her laughter turned to sobs and her tears began to flow, but time hardly mattered.

* * *

**Further Author's Note:**

I decided to combine the two canon designs of the Black Materia that I know of for this. (That would be the black orb pictured in-game, and the more purple-ish orb with gold scrollwork as appears with the life-sized sculpture depicting Sephiroth preserved in the Northern Crater. Sadly, I've only ever seen photos of the statue; it's apparently in the Square-Enix museum in Japan.)

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	26. You Traveled Far What Have You Found?

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Analyse" by Thom Yorke. (This song was played during the end credits of the film _The Prestige_.)

* * *

**(26: You Traveled Far; What Have You Found?)**

* * *

_Tifa?_

She was dreaming. She knew that. It wasn't so bad to die this way - to drift away from life while sleeping, dreaming, and never notice the pain of suffocation.

It wasn't much of a dream. She could see the Planet still in the starry sky, and feel the pain in her arm and the light tickle of blood and sweat, and the increasingly uncomfortable warmth of the suit as its ability to process her breath waned. And she could hear Vincent's voice. That was all. But she'd take what she could get.

_Tifa!_ Vincent's voice sounded a little more distinct than it had before. _Where are you?_

Actually, she decided, this was getting a little annoying. How was she supposed to sleep if Vincent kept yelling at her?

_Tifa!_

"On the Moon, where the hell do you think," she mumbled, lips barely moving, eyes sliding shut.

"Tifa!"

Her eyes snapped open wide again. It was real. His voice was real. She was hearing him through the suit's intercom. Though her heart beat faster, it felt a little difficult to draw a deep enough breath to speak with any clarity. Her voice sounded weak and incredulous to her ears, and she tried not to cough from how dry her throat was. "Vincent?"

"Tifa, we're landing, hang on! Where are you?"

She smiled slightly, still staring up at the Planet. Cloud had sent knights in his stead. "The Temple. Follow the tracks." She took another, more careful breath. "Suit's damaged. Low on air. Can't move -"

"Temple?" Vincent's voice said softly, almost unable to be heard through the intercom. But his confusion only lasted a moment. "We'll get you. Just hang on."

She couldn't remember when she'd last heard Vincent so... animated. "I'll wait," she murmured, smiling more broadly. "Got a Restore spell handy?"

He didn't respond.

Talking could wait until she had more air, she knew, so she let her mind wander instead. Vincent wasn't alone; she wondered who'd come with him. They must have left within a day after she and Jenova had, to have arrived here now. There'd been another rocket ready, hadn't there.

The silence stretched, and stretched longer, and she had the sudden thought that she might have hallucinated the voice. There was nothing to dwell on but possibilities and the uncomfortable dampness of tears and sweat in her hair and the trickle of blood lazily crawling over her arm in the low gravity. Gritting her teeth, she spoke aloud again. "Vincent?"

"Almost there," he immediately responded, his voice much more clear now. "We can see the Temple."

Tifa sighed in relief and confirmation of reality. Soon. "I'm at the bottom of the steps." After a moment she bit her lip, then added, "Hurry. It's hard to be still."

Time crawled on for a few more minutes; anticipation began to gnaw at her and make it harder not to move. She wanted to pull herself up and run to Vincent and leave... but so much as twitching too strongly might tear the suit where it sealed around the knife.

"Tifa?"

It wasn't Vincent's voice, and she barely stopped herself from a startled jump. Her mouth opened slightly in shock before snapping shut again. So that was who had come with Vincent.

"Ah," she murmured, suddenly completely unsure of what to say. "Hey." She took another breath, concentrating. "You... You're family's not going to be happy with you."

Loz snorted, his voice quiet. "Yeah, I know."

Tifa tried to take another deep breath, but the suit seemed to close in on her, her chest aching. A soft beeping sounded in the helmet, and she was certain that she knew what it meant. "Faster," she urged, her voice strained.

She tried to pay attention to something, anything, besides the beeping. Anything to keep her calm and using less air. She tried to count her heartbeats, decipher images from the swirls of clouds on the Planet...

Seconds stretched to minutes. Inhaling was torture; she was starting to gasp uncontrollably. She swallowed, noticing again how thirsty she was. How long had it been since she'd had anything to eat or drink?

She hadn't realized her eyes had closed when she heard the rasping and clanking through her helmet. Her sense of balance told her she was being tilted, someone doing... something, with the back of her suit.

The temperature in the suit abruptly dropped, air flowing again. Tifa gasped in agonizing relief, filling her lungs. Her head pounded as her vision cleared.

"Better?" Vincent asked.

Tifa looked at the environmental suit that knelt in front of her, studying the dagger stabbed through her right forearm, but it was Loz that turned and looked back at her. Vincent was behind her, propping her up, having connected his suit's air supply to hers.

"Much," she answered, her voice ragged. She found herself smiling a little - purely in relief, she was certain - as she stared into Loz's face. He didn't smile back, but his features relaxed.

She broke her gaze, looking down to the knife in her arm. It was the first time she'd seen the wound herself, and the improbably clean seal made it seem unreal despite the pain. "Gotta do something about that."

Loz grunted, looking over Tifa at Vincent, then taking hold of the handle of the knife.

Tifa winced at the sudden jostling, but her eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen. "No, Loz, wait, the suit -"

He pulled.

Tifa choked and shouted. Puncture wounds always felt worse when the puncturing object was removed again.

He flung the knife to the side and reached, and drew his hand back with an odd adhesive patch, which he quickly slapped onto the gash in the suit before much air escaped. It took Tifa a moment to realize that he had one knee on her hand, pinning her arm so that the exit tear on the other side of the suit was flush with the ground and leaking as little air as possible.

But the vacuum outside was too strong; the airflow was not completely cut off, and her blood was being pulled with it. Tifa remembered the biodome shattering on the Orbital City, the sudden vacuum drawing the blood from Loz's body, as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Tilted like this, she could see the red staining the ground, incongruous color on the monotone moonscape. The blood stayed bright - the lack of oxygen left it unable to oxidize and turn dark, except where the air from the suit rushed by it. She tried to speak, but ended up only coughing and groaning.

Vincent almost immediately handed over another patch - from a repair kit, she realized - and Loz abruptly pulled his knee away and twisted her arm up and around to seal the suit. Tifa yelped again at the rough treatment, and had the presence of mind to glare at Loz, but his expression when he turned to her was nothing but apologetic. He lay his hand on the suit and she saw the slight green glow of a Cure spell, but without actual physical contact, the spell didn't take well. She felt less faded and sick, but still weak.

"Don't waste it," she muttered, lifting her other hand from her side to push his arm away. "It can wait."

"Let's go," Vincent said, his voice sounding as still and dark as Tifa was accustomed to. She smiled to herself at the change - clearly, the danger had passed.

Except that it hadn't, really. "Vincent, Jenova has the Black Materia." No matter how much she craned her neck, she couldn't see him behind her; the helmet cut off her view.

There was silence for a moment. Tifa saw Loz look away, as though to hide his face.

"Then we'll have to get it back before She uses it," Vincent responded simply. "Loz. Help her up."

It was slow going back to the module that Loz and Vincent had arrived in. Tifa had some trouble walking, and tired quickly and had to stop to rest a few times. Loz reached as though to carry her, but Vincent reminded him of how difficult that would be, with her suit connected to his. She leaned heavily on Vincent instead, when she had to, and Loz carried the toolbox that must have been the repair kit.

Vincent had Tifa enter the module first, when they reached it and disconnected her suit. She waited anxiously for the small airlock to cycle, fumbling at the latches of her helmet before the interior door had even opened. Stumbling into the module - identical to the one she'd arrived in with Jenova - she collapsed just to the side of the airlock.

Sitting with her back to the wall, she could finally tilt her head back to breathe deeply. Her helmet dropped from her slackened hand to bounce lightly and roll to the side, out of the way.

She heard the airlock cycle again, but she didn't move, her eyes closed. It was all right now. Her head was still reeling - loss of blood, lack of air, lack of food, lack of water - but she was safe now. She could relax, at least for a moment. She only listened to Vincent getting out of his environmental suit with surprisingly quick movements as the airlock began to cycle again.

She didn't realize that it wasn't Vincent until she felt a large hand on the side of her head and felt the warm rush of a Cure spell. She gasped. "Loz -"

She'd barely managed to open her eyes before his lips were on hers. It was not a gentle kiss; there was a ferocity to his invasive movements that communicated more than words would have been capable of.

A few heartbeats' shock swiftly melted away, and though she couldn't quite bring herself to reciprocate in kind - she hadn't the energy - she gave no resistance. Her eyes drifted shut again as she made a soft sound that only seemed to spur him on.

He'd been terrified, hadn't he. He knew the at least something of the weight of what he'd done in coming here. He wanted it to be worth it.

She wondered why she _shouldn't_ let him have his way, when it came down to it. He, one of the Princes, had defied the Queen. It wasn't as though he'd survive long once She figured that out.

On his knees, he drew her as close as he could with his other arm around her, his suit in a heap on the floor; she hadn't removed more than the helmet of her own suit. She lifted her arms to his sides, but neither pulled him closer nor pushed him away, unable to do more than lay her hands against him through the thick gloves.

She wanted to tell him how much had changed. How much _he_ had changed. She wanted to tell him that there was a chance that this would all come out all right, if they tried hard enough. Even if he wouldn't live to see it.

But she doubted that he could even understand it. It was unlikely that he cared about what would come of all this. The here-and-now was all that seemed to matter to him.

She realized how much she envied that.

She thought of Sephiroth screaming as His body ripped itself apart. Sephiroth had not been able to resist Jenova and survive, and He had been a whole being, and Loz was not.

Did he even know what Jenova would do to him for this?

Shuddering, Tifa pulled back, breaking the kiss. "Loz."

He barely moved, panting, but rested his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry -"

She didn't get to find out exactly what he was sorry for. The intercoms in their discarded helmets crackled, giving the odd experience of Vincent's voice coming from three places at once - from both helmets and from inside the airlock.

"I had considered returning to the Planet as quickly as possible," he said dryly, "But I could wait here indefinitely if you prefer."

Tifa felt the heat of a blush crawling over her face. There was a window in the interior door of the airlock, wasn't there. She refused to look, and instead began to intently focus on getting out of her environmental suit. "Stow that," she grumbled, kicking at Loz's suit as she stood.

He mutely obeyed, but only turned to her again when he was done, as the airlock door opened. "Your mouth was kinda dry. I'll get you some water."

Tifa had to turn around so that Vincent wouldn't see how red her face was as he entered the module.

Despite his words, Vincent insisted that Tifa eat and drink before they lifted off, and Loz cast another Cure spell. She felt a little drowsy, sitting in the back of the cockpit and watching the gray ground fall away, and she breathed deeply as the curious feeling of weightlessness buoyed her up.

Closing her eyes, she rolled her head from side to side; her neck was still sore from long hours in the environmental suit. She had to swat her increasingly sloppy braid out of the way - doing something about that wasn't going to be easy without gravity. She reminded herself that she should've cut her hair when she'd had the chance.

"You look tired," Vincent commented, barely glancing at her as he checked a few of the switches and gauges above his seat, referring to a plastic-paged manual in his other hand. His own hair was braided back and neatly pinned up with a pen. The corner of Tifa's mouth twitched at that, but the hint of smile drifted away as he continued. "There's time to rest. We have a few days."

"Yeah," she acknowledged, almost instantly unlatching her seatbelts and drifting free. She hadn't had much chance to explore the module on her way to the Moon; the way back promised to be a significantly more comfortable experience. In some ways.

Sleeping arrangements seemed to consist of an alcove oriented away from the cockpit area, with two sleeping bags held inside by adjustable netting. It made sense that there were only two; real Shinra astronauts would have slept in shifts, had the company been able to actually launch its space program instead of simply throwing themselves into using whatever technology they could churn out.

The fact that the two sleeping bags had been zipped together to make one larger one was another matter.

Tifa was looking at the sleeping bags, one hand on the netting, when Loz drifted into her field of view. He stopped, bracing himself in the short hall, but seemed too hesitant to really be trying to block her escape at all.

She only looked at him for a moment before dropping her gaze. "Thank you," she murmured. "For coming to get me."

"Mmm." He drifted closer, behind her, reaching around her to grasp with his left hand the netting she gripped with her right. She could feel the warmth of him against her back, though he hardly touched her.

"What happened to your leg?" he asked softly, his head tilted so that he spoke close to her ear.

She didn't turn to face him, but instinctively inclined her head roughly toward the patch on her thigh where her suit had been burned away. "Slipped up. There was fire."

He finally touched her, his right hand lightly rubbing over the skin bared by the burnt material. She instinctively braced her foot on the netting so that the light pressure didn't push her away. "You all right?"

"I'm fine now," she responded, keeping her voice as low as his. She couldn't quite forget that Vincent was all of twenty feet away.

Loz's fingers slipped under the scorched edge of the material, and he drew himself closer against her back. The thermal clothing did absolutely nothing to mask what he wanted, as if she hadn't known. The oddity was the hesitant way he approached her.

Tifa was a little surprised when he spoke again, just as she'd begun to let herself relax into him. "Keep thinking I'll wake up," he said softly. "And we'll get there too late to get you back. Or I won't be here at all..."

She remembered his kiss, telling her how afraid he'd been of losing her, and her heart sank a little with guilt. Jenova was going to kill him, and it would be because she'd misled him.

"Loz," she began. "There's something I need to tell you." Her fingers clenched in the netting. She wondered if this was the wrong thing to do - if he lost himself in rage, he could damage the module. But... it wasn't as though the secret served any purpose any more, was it.

"In the forest," she said quickly, without giving him a chance to respond. "When we fought, you were strangling me, and I said... I said I love you. Only it... I didn't mean it for you, I was -"

"I know."

There was a long silence during which neither of them moved. Finally, Tifa whispered, "You know?"

He chuckled and nuzzled her hair, pulling them closer to the netting, trapping her. "You'd never say that to me."

Tifa turned her head and laid it against the netting, looking at him from the corner of her eye. It wasn't easy to completely readjust everything she'd been thinking for weeks now. "What was it, then?" she asked, brow furrowed. "That stopped you."

"Nothing stopped me." His lips brushed her ear, his words strangely disconnected from his soft tone and tender motions. "You died. I crushed your windpipe. Didn't even realize what you'd said until I'd dropped you."

The casual way he spoke made her tense; she hadn't realized that she'd forgotten how inhuman he was. After a moment, she prompted, "Then what?"

He stopped moving, then tilted his head a little and rested it against hers. "I missed you. Thought I broke you for good. Had to hit you a lot to make your heart beat again before I could even cast a Cure spell, and even then I had to breathe for you for a while."

"You... went to all that trouble because you _missed_ me?" To have succeeded in reviving her, he had to have started almost as soon as he'd... dropped her, as he put it.

"Mm." He breathed deeply, his body shifting comfortably against hers. "Never wanted to break you for good. Not really." He moved his head to nose against her hair. "Sometimes I forget. Been trying not to."

"Well." Tifa's mind was racing, trying to keep up with what he was saying. "Good." He really had been that obsessed with her the entire time, hadn't he - it hadn't been because she'd deceived him. "But, ah, after that -"

"You were gonna let that be the last thing you said, ever," he murmured into her hair, his hand finally sliding from her thigh so that he could wrap his arm around her waist. "I wondered how it would be if you _did_ mean it for me." His fingers slid under the edge of her shirt as though he didn't want to lose the contact with her skin. "Besides, you were acting kinda weird. I was worried I hadn't got you fixed up right."

His point of view was alien enough that she simply hadn't understood him as well as she'd thought. Tifa couldn't stop herself - she rested her head against the netting and laughed, barely able to keep her voice down. Here he was, defying his family and likely to die for it, because he'd been _curious_.

He was so much more obsessed with her than she'd realized. Maybe more than he'd realized too.

"Hey..." He pushed back from her, and she let him turn her to face him, though she didn't raise her head to look into his face right away - she couldn't quite stop laughing for a moment. When she did look up, he was frowning at her, clearly confused, and it was enough for her to calm herself again.

"I'm all right," she whispered, and meant it. She felt somehow lighter than she had been in so long, and it had nothing to do with being in space. "I've been..." She searched for words, absently letting her hands rest on his chest. He'd been a monster for his entire short life, but now he was more concerned with her than anything else. She didn't have to do a thing to control him - didn't have to bind him or deceive him - because he was doing it to himself. He _wanted_ to.

She'd been right, in the room of the Phoenix. He was becoming something entirely new for her sake. Opening the way to save the Planet - maybe, if they could stop Jenova from using the Black Materia - was just a side effect.

"I've been trying too hard," she murmured, looking away from him. "I need to sleep."

He was quiet for a moment - long enough that she looked back at him just as he spoke and pushed away. "Yeah." He set about unfastening one side of the netting and opening the combined sleeping bags to make it easier to get in. "Me too. Didn't sleep on the way here."

She drifted a little from the netting and braced herself against the ceiling to stop. "For three days?" Now that she looked at him more openly, he did seem worn, his eyes shaded underneath.

"Used a Cure spell yesterday." He slipped into the sleeping bags and braced himself inside, reaching toward her with his free hand.

She took his hand and let him draw her in.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	27. The Sun And The Moon Are Forever

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

I apologize for the length (or lack thereof, rather). Hopefully I'll be able to update again soon!

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Frozen" by Collide.

* * *

**(27: The Sun And The Moon Are Forever)**

* * *

It was strange to be so close to Loz without feeling his weight. Tifa settled for warmth and mass, taking comfort in the feel of his arms around her, though without the sleeping bags she'd have drifted from his relaxed grip.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there when she awoke, content to relax and listen to his heartbeat. She gradually became aware, however, that it marked the passage of time, and she reached to unfasten the netting and pull herself away.

His arms immediately tensed, pulling them together. "Don't go."

She gave a small start at the sudden motion, but didn't resist further. "I didn't want to wake you," she murmured, though she slipped one arm around him as well, the better to snuggle against him. He tensed up again, and she smiled a little, with her cheek against his chest. She must have surprised him, she realized. "You needed to sleep too."

"M'awake now," he mumbled, seeming to rapidly come to terms with the adjustment to her attitude. He seemed to take it as an invitation, in fact; one hand moved lower, down over her hips.

Tifa didn't change position, but she closed her eyes, her smile widening with wry amusement. "So you are."

Well, as she'd thought before, why not. Her smile faded a little with the thought of what would likely happen to Loz when they returned to the Planet, if not before. She pushed back a little and looked up into his face. "Can I ask you something first?"

"First," he echoed, his lips pulling into an eager grin. She wanted to laugh at how predictable he was.

But she didn't. The question that she wanted to ask wouldn't let her. "You had... a lot of chances," she began, not quite sure how to phrase it. "You could have... I can think of half a dozen times at least, that you could've taken me, when we were traveling." She couldn't quite meet his eyes as she spoke, and instead pretended that his collarbone was terribly interesting. "I couldn't always have fought you off. Why did you wait for me to let you?"

He blinked, his grin fading, though not vanishing, as he looked away for a moment. "Seen you hurt," he finally answered, seeming to steel himself as he faced her again. "Seen you bleed and break and cry and scream." He raised his hand to cup the side of her head, running his thumb over the tear-like scar from the corner of her eye as she lifted her face. "I wanted to see you like it."

No wonder he was so eager now, with the way she was responding. In the heat of a blush, Tifa remembered the stunned way he'd looked at her in the Tower, when she'd been sentenced to die, when _she'd_ taken _him_. This monstrous, inhuman creature that did such terrible things...

_Had_ done terrible things, in the past. She wondered if he would again, given the chance, or if he could control that vicious bloodlust that overtook him, now that he was trying.

All for the sake of seeing her enjoy being with him. He wasn't even behaving as though it were some sort of conquest to prove his dominance; he genuinely seemed to value how she felt about it. He could have had any of his family's followers however he wanted - undoubtedly had, in fact - but it was _her_ that he wanted, and he'd wanted her enough to change everything. The danger to the Planet, his family, himself, her... everything.

He was the monster that had tortured her, had scarred her, had even _killed_ her, and had destroyed so many others as well. And he was also the man that now rescued her at risk to himself and sought to please her. She didn't know if she could, or should, reconcile the two concepts in her mind.

But if she focused on the present alone, on how he was now... she could _like_ the present. She could take pleasure in his company, for now, because it wouldn't last. And because after so much hurt for so long, the comfort of closeness was addictive.

"Idiot," she murmured, though it was unclear which of them she meant. And rather than letting him speak in response, she pressed her lips against his.

As it turned out, fighting wasn't the only thing one could do to physically exhaust oneself in zero gravity.

It was more than an hour later when she finally disentangled herself. Tifa slipped from the sleeping bag and spent a few moments getting her thermal garments straightened before pausing to look at Loz again. She half expected him to wake again, but he didn't, this time.

Vincent sat in the cockpit exactly where she'd last seen him, though now he seemed still and relaxed; she thought that he might be sleeping as well. She was about to turn away again when he spoke, evidently having seen her reflection in the glass in front of him.

"It seems peaceful here," he murmured, without greeting or acknowledgement. "Deceptive."

Tifa knew better than to ignore Vincent when he spoke; he so rarely began a conversation himself. "Deceptive?" She echoed, moving to sit next to him. She drew her legs up and hugged her knees, hooking her feet into the seat's armrests so as to keep reasonably still. Her braid drifted about her head, and she wondered how bad an idea it would be to simply cut it now, considering how messy it was getting. The many strands that had pulled loose to wave about her head were starting to get in the way.

"Particles move," Vincent said without looking at her. He stared through the window at the Planet. "Microscopic worlds are born and die and are born again. Light from millions of years ago reaches us when its source has long since vanished. The sun batters us with radiation and undiluted energy." He glanced at her. "Gravity pulls objects together."

Tifa looked back at him from the corner of her eye and had the unreasonable urge to tell gravity to mind its own business. "I'll take it for a few days. It beats the alternative."

She thought he might be pleased with her response, but with him, it was difficult to tell. "You've changed," he noted.

"I think I woke up." She liked the way the Planet looked from here: warm and welcoming and green where it should be. It was an illusion, but she was prepared to enjoy it anyway.

He made a small sound. "You have hope."

She nodded, still not looking at him. "Have to. It's... This is all close to ending one way or another, Vincent. We have to find a way to stop Jenova from summoning Meteor." She sighed. "If there was some way to convince Yuffie that the Queen is lying..."

"I believe that Yuffie may know that now," Vincent said softly.

Tifa looked toward him, her brow furrowing. "What happened?"

"We'll know when we return." Vincent's gaze turned inward. "But it is likely that she will be punished for betrayal as well. Loz said that she distracted Kadaj while he convinced Yazoo to take him to the launch site."

Tifa swallowed. It had been shocking enough that Loz would rebel against his mother for her, but Yazoo and Yuffie as well? All for her sake?

No - Yazoo at least would act for Loz's sake, but not for hers, she was certain. And he wasn't here, thankfully. She wasn't sure she'd have been able to handle that. "Yazoo stayed behind?" she guessed.

"He took Loz to the launch site but would not accompany him further," Vincent explained, his voice soft - and Tifa wondered if that was to prevent Loz from hearing. "He is... less certain of his actions than Loz, I suspect."

It was like a splash of ice water washing away the warm comfort she'd let herself indulge in. No matter what happened with Loz, considering him alone was as much an illusion as the peace of their surroundings; he was still strongly connected to his family. Even if Jenova killed him, his brothers would place the blame on Tifa. Kadaj certainly would, at least. She was the root of his misbehavior, after all.

She sighed. Better to enjoy what rest she could get while she could. "How did you end up coming with him?"

The corner of Vincent's mouth twitched. "He was already in the module when we arrived. He shut the door in Barret's face. I didn't realize until I was strapping in and I heard Cid over the intercom from the command center, but by that point the hatch was sealed." He turned away as he spoke, apparently looking at the stars, though Tifa thought she saw him smiling in the indistinct reflection in the window. "He let me in because it occurred to him that he might need assistance."

Whether he was smiling or not, Vincent sounded strangely... tolerant, of the situation in general. More so than he had on the Highwind. Tifa wondered how much he and Loz had talked during the days they'd spent in the module heading for the Moon, and what they'd talked about. "He was going to come alone," she said aloud, her voice soft.

It took her a moment to speak again, and she wasn't sure if she meant her voice to sound so small and helpless or not. She was so tired of feeling helpless.

"Vincent, Jenova's going to kill him."

Vincent only looked to her from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. "Maybe. Maybe not."

For a moment Tifa took the words to mean that she shouldn't count on Loz dying as an easy way out of their... relationship, and found that a reasonable warning. But Vincent's next words took her off-guard. "You don't want him to die."

She jerked her head up to face him fully; he was looking directly at her now. There was no hiding the shock in her expression for a moment as she frantically searched for words. "Cloud. When we first crash-landed in the desert, I heard Cloud, and he said not to let Loz die."

Vincent raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not making this up," Tifa nearly snapped, forgetting to keep her voice down but quieting an instant later. "I told you before! Cloud said he was important. I don't know. Maybe... maybe somehow Cloud knew this would happen, with Loz... coming to my rescue. I don't know." She took a breath and held it before letting it out in a huff, quelling her emotions. She didn't like to think that Cloud would intentionally have put her through everything she'd been through with Loz, but she couldn't think of another reason why Loz would be important.

"In that case," the dark-haired man murmured as he returned to staring at the stars, "He has fulfilled his purpose. Perhaps it would be simplest to dispose of him before returning to the surface. We have an airlock."

Tifa stared. She knew that Vincent had been a Turk, once; sometimes that really shone through. And she couldn't deny that not long ago, shoving Loz out an airlock would have sounded like a great idea to her. Especially if she could've given him some phoenix downs first.

At the moment, though, the idea clawed into her as badly as the idea of Jenova tearing him apart did. She could blame that distraction for not realizing what Vincent was doing right away, couldn't she?

His voice sounded strangely warm, as he responded to her silence without ever having turned to see the way shock and revulsion twisted her features. "I thought not."

She closed her mouth again. "You made your point," she admitted, though it was hard for her to swallow. She'd been telling herself that she was simply dealing with him, conditionally accepting him and using him for her own needs - and that might be true, but she wanted it to stay that way, didn't she. She didn't like that it wouldn't last, and she wasn't looking forward to watching him... end.

Vincent made a small sound - a verbal shrug - but the meaning was clear. He'd forced her to confront her reasons - hell, her feelings, she had to admit that now didn't she - without excuses. Whether the response surprised him or not (she somehow suspected that it didn't), he accepted it.

"I don't know what we're going to tell the others," she muttered, taking from the way he'd been speaking that Vincent was with her in this. "If Jenova doesn't kill him, Cid will."

The sound that Vincent made was definitely a laugh this time.

He told her later that had been Shinra that alerted AVALANCHE to the rockets' preparation. That weighed on Tifa as well - certainly Rufus' motivation had been to try to protect the Black Materia, but it felt as though everyone were suddenly looking out for her. She'd thought she'd been alone for so long that she didn't know how to feel about the reverse.

But after so long... she couldn't go back to the way she'd been since Cloud had died. The need to stop Jenova from using the Black Materia consumed her thoughts. After so long, not just she, but the entire Planet had a chance to _live_ - and she wanted it.

There really wasn't much to do in the module; it was little wonder that Vincent spent so much time reading the manuals and (literally) staring out into space. He did spend several hours helping Tifa to safely re-braid her hair, though, for which she was grateful.

She and Loz worked on reading the manuals as well. It certainly couldn't hurt, though the landing system seemed to be fairly self-regulating. Just as long as they didn't fall into a volcano, they'd probably be fine until the Highwind could pick them up according to the plans AVALANCHE had laid.

It wasn't until the final stretch of the journey that Vincent finally slept - still in the chair at the controls.

Tifa slipped out of the cockpit, where she'd been reading next to Vincent, and pulled herself along to the sleeping area. Loz was trying to perform a series of stretching exercises which were not designed to be accomplished without gravity, and the effort was taking most of his attention as he tried to keep track of hand and foot holds on the surrounding walls. The confinement was not kind to him; he had been becoming increasingly agitated with nervous energy.

He didn't seem to notice Tifa's approach, and gave a start when she lay her hand on his back. "Hey," he greeted softly, looking over his shoulder at her. "How much longer?"

She made a small sound in return, unable to look him in the eye right away. "Three hours before we need to begin the landing sequence." She paused, then added, "Don't forget to strap in this time."

The suggestion took him by surprise, but after a moment he laughed, turning to face her.

"Keep your voice down," Tifa urgently whispered. "Vincent's asleep."

"Oh?" Loz grinned, pushing close - the motion forced her away, but she suddenly found herself with a wall at her back. "We could wake him. I've been thinking he might be feeling left out."

Tifa folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes. "I think he'd have mentioned by now if he was interested."

"Dunno, he's kinda quiet." Loz was still grinning, and moved in closer to nuzzle at her neck, but after a moment he stilled, his forehead against her shoulder. "You're just doing this because you think I'm going to die."

Somehow, that made her heart beat faster than his attentions had. "Loz -"

"I heard you," he cut her off, his voice so low she could barely hear him.

There just wasn't enough room in the module for any kind of private conversation, was there. She was sure that she was blushing again, for reasons that had little to do with conversation but much to do with sound.

"I don't want you to," she finally whispered, almost gritting her teeth to get the words out. "I don't... I don't know what I can do about it."

They were both still for a few minutes, before Loz murmured, "I'm glad you didn't die when you had the chance."

She would've laughed at the awkward phrasing, but she knew full well how much and how often she'd longed to be able to let go. Trying not to die wasn't the same as wanting to live. "It's because of you," she responded. One way or another, that had been true each time she'd come close to death, lately.

He began to move again, lightly kissing her neck - but instead of going any further, he broke away. "Gonna get something to eat. You want anything?"

Tifa only stared after him for a few minutes before she could bring herself to move at all.

Landing - or more accurately, making Planetfall - gave no difficulties in itself. Tifa kept her eyes closed - the module rattled enough to make her nervous. Slowly but surely, however, she felt the weight of full gravity settling over her. There was the jolt of released parachutes, and a long quiet in which she slowly realized that the flutter in her stomach was from falling rather than lack of gravity, and then another, harder jolt. Then heavier stillness than Tifa had thought she'd ever feel again. Not entirely still, though - she noticed a vague, rhythmic movement to the capsule. They must have landed at sea.

"You all right?" Loz asked.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. He was already working at the clasps of his seat's harness, and she hadn't even moved. "Good to be back," she mumbled. Good even if it meant no more time to rest. She had to be ready now.

Vincent hadn't yet begun to free himself, but had turned to glance at them before dialing on his PHS instead. The Highwind should have picked up the module's signal from orbit and should have been on the way already, but an update and estimate of how long they'd need to wait would be in order.

Loz grunted and went back to working rather quickly at his restraints. He didn't seem to like the confinement. She couldn't really blame him.

"Cid," Vincent intoned, the PHS having evidently connected. "We have her."

"You?" Tifa asked Loz without looking as she started on her own restraints.

"Heavy."

The corner of her mouth twitched with a slight smile, but at that moment, she heard Vincent inhale sharply. The sound wasn't lost on Loz, either; both of them looked up toward Vincent at the same time.

Vincent was staring toward the module's windows, though all Tifa could see was bright, atmosphere-filtered daylight outside. But it wasn't anything he was looking at that had caused his uncharacteristic shock. The source was the PHS that he clutched to his ear.

"Not the children..."

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


	28. Would I Drown In My Shallow Regret?

**Author's Note:** Disclaimer found below.

Chapter title is lyrics from the song "Black" by Sarah McLachlan. (In this case, the spacey remix from the _X-Files: Fight the Future_ movie album. I'm sure that it's only coincidence that the song for chapter one of this story came from the same album... since this isn't the final chapter at all. XD I love the original version of the song as well)

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**(28: If I Cried Me A River Of All My Confessions, Would I Drown In My Shallow Regret?)**

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"Understood." Vincent snapped his PHS shut, but for a moment did not move, the device still raised in his hand. The angle of his head suggested that he was looking at the PHS, but he was turned slightly away; Tifa couldn't see. She did, however, see the way his gauntleted hand tightened on the arm of his seat.

Her throat was tight, but she knew he'd speak when he was ready; she distracted herself by wondering if he ever removed his gauntlet. He'd worn it every moment she could think of for as long as she'd known him. If he hadn't worn it inside his environmental suit on the moon, he'd surely stashed it in the airlock and had it on by the time he entered the module.

Loz, on the other hand, didn't have the sense to distract himself. "Well?"

Vincent turned his head slightly, though not enough for Tifa to read his expression. "Well indeed." He shifted to stow the PHS. "The Highwind will arrive within the hour. We will then travel to the former Temple of the Ancients and return Loz to his brothers... In exchange for Marlene, Denzel, and Mal."

The situation was exactly as bad as Tifa had feared, and the words hurt as surely as a punch to the stomach. It took her a moment to find her voice, and her hands lay uselessly on her still half-fastened seat harness. "The Bone Village -"

"Still stands," Vincent responded, but Loz cut him off before he could say more.

"Don't look at me, I told Yazoo to get Reeve."

There was a marked silence within the capsule. Slowly, Tifa and Vincent turned to look at him.

Loz stared back at them, having paused in slipping out of his restraints. "Yazoo wasn't gonna let me go," he said, gaze darting between them as his expression became uneasy. "But Yuffie didn't want Tifa to die either and said where Reeve was, and said Yazoo could get Reeve and fix him and trade him back for me when we got back. Then everything would be even again, right?"

Vincent turned away, his lips set in a thin line; Tifa could only guess how he felt at the revelation. She only glanced at him before fixing her gaze on Loz again, this time with considerably more anger. "You... you let us think you knew what you were doing, and then you..." She couldn't even find the right words. Rage coiled inside her, and she was thankful that she'd still no equipped Materia. She could have Summoned a Bahamut inside the module if she had.

Loz blinked in confusion. "I never said -"

"I need some air," Vincent muttered, abruptly standing and moving toward the ceiling hatch at the center of the module.

Tifa let him pass before speaking again. "You put the children in danger!" she snapped. "I swear, if your brothers so much as mess up their hair, I'm going to -"

"Look, I thought it worked out, I mean, you wanted your friend back, right?" Keeping his eyes on her, Loz carefully extricated himself from the nylon straps as though quick movements might incite Tifa to crawl over the back of her seat and attack.

"How is that any different from having him now!" She snapped back, struggling more quickly with her own harness. The last thing she wanted was for him to get out of range at this point.

"Well, Yazoo's been keeping him asleep; don't you want him to wake up? Yazoo's been tired of the dreams bleeding over for a while now anyway."

The revelation actually gave Tifa pause. "You're telling me that you guys want Reeve to wake up?"

Loz seemed a little relieved at her reaction. "Well, yeah. There needs to be a manual connection in order for Yazoo to unlock him alive, but we couldn't find him 'cos you guys kept hiding. And how could they trade him for me if he was dead?"

For a moment her anger very nearly _was_ derailed. If they'd known... but it didn't matter, did it? She bristled at herself for being distracted in the slightest. "_Then why did they take the children?!_"

"How should I know!"

With a loud hiss, the hatch finally opened, and Vincent began to climb up and out onto the roof. But not even the sudden in-rush of humid atmosphere, salty and slightly smoky but fresh, could distract the pair inside.

By the time the Highwind arrived, Loz had been forced to relinquish what Materia he'd had, Restore Materia included. He seemed sullen as he climbed the rope ladder to the gondola, with new bruising blooming across the side of his face. He didn't even protest when Barret grabbed his arm to drag him to the room that was to again serve as his cell.

For his part, Barret looked like he'd rather shove Loz right back out into the air and shoot at him as he fell. Tifa couldn't blame him at all, her anger in accord with his. What bothered her was Cid.

Cid wasn't speaking to anyone, not even Shera, and he wouldn't leave the airship's controls. Tifa got as far as seeing him before thinking better of trying to speak with him. She'd never seen him look so hollow or... old. He gave no sign of acknowledgement to her presence at all.

Tifa turned to leave the bridge again, shaking her head to Vincent, who had accompanied her - but found her way blocked. Shera stood in the entryway.

She'd been there when it happened. She moved carefully, her limbs wrapped in bandages - there were probably more under her clothes. She'd tried to protect the children, tried to make them run...

The woman took a breath, not quite looking Tifa in the eye, and Tifa prepared herself for the invective she knew she deserved. This was all her fault. All of it. And she just kept making things worse.

But Shera only turned away, lowering her head. "Come down to the galley. You look like you could use a drink."

Tifa glanced uncertainly at Vincent, thrown by the unexpected reaction, but he only nodded for her to proceed and fell into step behind her once she did.

Shera began to speak when they hit the stairwell, glancing back once. "It's not your fault," she said in a quiet, even tone, as though she'd practiced. "We used to think that staying away from you would suffice, with the way trouble followed you so closely, but things have changed again, haven't they." She sighed. "I'm sorry that I was angry when you came to the space station. I suppose it was inevitable, that it wouldn't last."

Tifa didn't know what to say, pausing on the steps until Vincent gently nudged her ahead. "You have nothing to apologize for," he told Shera, and deftly changed the subject. "Tell us what happened."

The woman turned and nodded as she reached the door to the level with the galley, the electric light overhead glinting from her glasses. Tifa caught a gleam of silver on their dark frame - it had been broken and soldered back together.

"I didn't take the worst of it. Nanaki had the Restore Materia; he stayed behind with the others when Cid came," she explained, moving a little slowly down the hall. "It was night and most of us were asleep when they broke into the house. I think they were after Reeve, but they were going to kill Elmyra and Ruvie to get through them, and Marlene got in the way and told them to take her instead." Tifa saw the corners of the woman's mouth twitch downward uncontrollably as she turned to open the door to the galley. "They liked that idea a little too much and took Denzel and Mal too. Right..." Her breath caught. "Right out of my arms..."

Hesitantly, Tifa placed her hand on the woman's back. She could barely begin to imagine the horror of that, for a mother.

Shera sagged a little, then moved forward without looking back, heading straight for the liquor cabinet. Despite having invited Tifa and Vincent to join her, she filled a glass and drank first, knuckles white from how tightly she gripped the whiskey bottle in her free hand. "It took too long for the Highwind to get there. No one had more than a few Potions, you see. Elmyra and Zhai are no worse off than I, and Reeve was never even touched... Ruvie will probably keep her eye... but Lia's never going to dance again." She took another drink. "Her husband was taking it harder than she was when I left. I don't know that she'd realized yet..."

She was still standing at the cabinet, her hands shaking. Tifa sat heavily at the table as Shera spoke, but after a moment, stood again and took the whiskey bottle from her.

As Tifa took a glass for herself, Vincent closed the door behind them.

The Temple of the Ancients - or its former location, at least - took about a day to reach. It had been chosen because, by the time the Princes' message was relayed to the Highwind through Shinra, it was roughly equidistant for both parties. The Temple had once been fairly well hidden by the jungle, but the gaping crater it had left behind was harder to miss.

Neither Tifa nor Vincent stood guard over Loz's door during the night. Barret wouldn't leave his chosen post, and seemed to be itching for any excuse to put the prisoner in pain. Unlike before, however, Loz stayed in the room without complaint and did not speak the entire time.

After healing Shera with the Restore Materia she'd taken back from Loz, Tifa spent the night in her own room, sorting through the weapons and Materia that she'd left on the airship the last time she'd been there. She fell asleep for only a fitful hour, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against the edge the bunk, head bowed over Cloud's SOLDIER-issue pauldron in her hands.

Fully equipped and armored, Tifa left the Highwind feeling far less vulnerable than she had for weeks. The Pearl Armor was a comfortable and familiar weight that she'd missed, as was the bump of the poison-bearing Zolom fang knife at her hip. She was no longer afraid to take on Loz while unarmed, but his brothers were another matter.

It was raining lightly when Tifa, Loz, Barret, Cid, and Shera disembarked. Vincent remained behind, guarding the airship in case of some other attack and keeping it ready, though he couldn't pilot it on his own.

Loz was not bound or leashed, but walked silently behind Tifa, watching the uneven ground beneath his boots. At least they were his own boots - he'd had the sense to stow his leathers on the module. Otherwise he'd have had nothing but the thermal clothes to wear, as the only person he might be able to borrow from was Barret, and Barret was none too inclined to share.

The rain was light now, but it had obviously been heavier before, and had left a treacherous terrain of slick mud murky puddles in its wake. It was strange - the pathways near the Temple's location were neither grassy nor covered in fallen leaves, as though the Planet itself tended the area despite the Temple having... fallen.

As though this were a cemetery, Tifa thought dryly.

As they headed for the wide-open area at what had once been the entrance to the Temple of the Ancients, movement on the ground caught Tifa's eye. She realized after a moment that she must have seen their reflections in the still puddles. She watched her footing a little more, distractedly taking note of the patchwork of light and dark on the ground, painted by dim white sky and leaves' shadows. As they passed pools of water on the ground, she watched what she could see of their reflections: Loz, herself, Barret, Cid, and she couldn't see Shera... Loz, herself, Barret, Cid... Loz, herself, Cloud -

She stopped and whirled, only for Barret to nearly run into her. "What?" He demanded with a scowl, the tense circumstances leaving his temper short.

Tifa's shocked expression eased into uncertainty. "Thought I saw something," she muttered, before turning to catch up to Loz.

Except that Loz had stopped as well, looking over his shoulder at her, though he still didn't say anything.

"Get moving," she snapped, having intended to tell him to wait. Everyone seemed to be crowding her at the moment.

After only a few steps, though, she changed her mind. "No, wait," she said, glancing down at the puddles again. "I have a bad feeling about this. Hold still."

"We all have a bad feeling about this," Cid grumbled. It was the first thing he'd really said aloud for a few days, and Shera moved closer to him and slipped her arms around one of his, but Tifa wasn't paying attention.

She moved closer to Loz, then raised her hand over their heads and cast, watching his face as impassively as he watched hers. A green glow flowed out over them like a shell, then retracted, as though sealing over them individually.

"That was _my_ Barrier Materia," he said, pouting a little.

"Hasn't been since the first time we made Planetfall," Tifa responded, turning to cast Reflect on Barret, Cid, and Shera as well. Deflecting ranged magical attacks wouldn't entirely keep them safe, but it would help, and at least this way Loz couldn't be teleported out of their hands. "All right, let's go."

As they reached the clearing, Shera made a sound. Tifa looked up from watching her footing and trying not to look too closely at the puddles. Figures that must have been waiting for them emerged from the broad-leafed foliage on the far side of the square crater. Kadaj led the way and Yazoo brought up the rear, with the three children walking between them.

"Hey!" Loz called out, waving as though there was some chance that his brothers could have missed him.

Kadaj, Yazoo, and the children stopped. Tifa could make out the faces of the children; Denzel and Marlene didn't look as frightened as she'd thought they might, though Mal did. The three-year-old was clinging to the end of Marlene's shirt as tightly as the girl held the lifeless Cait Sith puppet in her arms.

Tifa could also see the Princes' faces, and their expressions were not as expected either. She'd thought that they'd be as cool and superior as usual, but Yazoo barely glanced at Loz before bowing his head so that his hair hid his face, and Kadaj was openly angry.

Tifa's bad feeling became a clear tension in her mind. Beyond the danger of the situation, something was terribly wrong.

"Well, come on then," Kadaj snarled at Loz.

Loz took half a step forward, though he seemed intimidated by Kadaj's demeanor as well. "Kadaj, it's not -"

"Not what?" The youngest of the Princes snarled, drawing his double-bladed sword. "Move it!"

"Hey!" Barret stepped forward, raising his gun-arm. "The kids. Let 'em go."

Kadaj momentarily focused on the man before carelessly nodding to Yazoo. The two of them each took a step back - and Kadaj swiftly raised his boot to the middle of Mal's back and kicked.

Cid shouted and Shera gave a shriek, but to Tifa it was a relief as Mal cried out and tumbled down the sloping side of the crater. The sides were steep and the little boy would probably be bruised, but he'd be all right - she didn't know how she could be so certain, but she was, and she didn't question it.

Barret's roar came less than a second after, just as Marlene shouted. "NOW!"

Tifa caught Denzel turning and lunging at Yazoo, and realized that Yazoo had already been drawing his gunblade. What held her attention, however, was Marlene. The girl lowered Cait Sith to dangle the robot limply from her left hand as she withdrew her right hand from its back - she must have made a compartment inside the puppet at some point. Lowering the cat revealed that she still wore the vial of Mako around her neck that she'd had on the space station, and that it was now flaring with blue-green light, even as a more yellow-green light curled around Marlene's right arm from her hand.

As Marlene turned toward Kadaj, right hand outstretched, Tifa realized that the girl had not only hidden Materia inside Cait Sith - she'd absorbed it. _Marlene could use Materia._

There was no time to be stunned. "No!" Tifa shouted, dashing forward. Marlene and Denzel were going to get themselves killed -

Denzel screamed, flung away with a snap loud enough to be heard across the distance that Loz, Tifa, and Barret were fast closing. He tumbled into the crater, one arm limp, and Tifa prayed that it was _only_ a broken limb that he suffered. Cid and Shera were rapidly descending to the bottom of the crater where Mal was trying to reach them; they'd be able to get to Denzel.

The second scream, however, came not from Marlene, but from Kadaj. The Prince was holding the side of his face, rivulets of sickly green pouring from between his gloved fingers. Somehow Marlene had managed to dodge inside his sword's range and hit him with some spell in the face.

Marlene skidded down into the crater as well - she'd either been kicked or had the sense to have thrown herself away. Kadaj howled and leapt after her, sword raised, but Barret started firing at him, roaring again as he ran along the muddy side of the crater, trying to get between Kadaj and Marlene. Kadaj's sword flashed as he deflected bullets, and as his hand lowered, Tifa glimpsed the black and red and green that tore the side of his face, the blue-green of his wild eyes and the white of his teeth suddenly out of place.

How in the world had Marlene learned to cast that level of Bio spell -

"Yazoo!"

Too late, Tifa realized that Loz was ahead of her, running for Yazoo - who hadn't moved at all, after he'd shaken Denzel away.

That sense of something being wrong sang loud in her mind again. The shock of Marlene secretly learning to use Materia was nothing compared to the shock of Yazoo doing nothing. The slender Prince simply stood as though he were waiting, his face still hidden by his hair, gunblade dangling almost listlessly from his left hand.

Loz slowed to a stop a few yards away, perhaps finally seeing something wrong with the situation. "Brother..."

Tifa came up to one side of Loz as he spoke, and saw the effect that the utterance seemed to have. Yazoo's shoulders shifted and he straightened, his head tilting to the side rather than forward. As he did so, his hair fell away from his face, revealing reddened eyes and the streaks of tears.

"Brother," Yazoo echoed, and managed to make the word sound like a curse. He began to raise his ornate gunblade.

Too late, Tifa realized what was wrong, and hated herself for not understanding earlier. Her own feelings toward Loz - anger and whatever else - had distracted her from what his brothers must have been feeling. They had taken the children hostage so as to draw Loz out, but it was not for the sake of retrieving him.

She didn't see Loz's face as the gunblade leveled at him, but she heard his voice, whispering in disbelief. "Yazoo..."

The stutter of Barret's gun-arm broke the moment, firing close by - Barret and Marlene were below them, firing and casting at Kadaj to keep him away from the others. Kadaj leapt from one wall of the crater to a ledge on the adjacent wall, and glanced up at Yazoo - and laughed with near hysteria.

"Do it, Yazoo! Don't you want Mother to love you again?"

Loz took a step backward, and Tifa saw his face. It had been one thing to believe that he'd abandoned his family by coming to rescue her against his Mother's wishes; it was quite another to actually see him realize the magnitude of what he'd done. His plan to return to his family didn't matter at all - the betrayal had been too great.

But Yazoo hadn't fired yet. The gunblade was leveled but unsteady, and Yazoo's breath was uneven and hissing through his teeth.

"You don't have to do this," she said quickly, stepping a little closer to Yazoo. "You don't want to. Listen to me, you could come with us -"

"Shut up!" Yazoo snarled, and in the moment that his aim wavered while he began to turn the gunblade toward her, Tifa lunged.

There was a sharp crack as he fired, the bullet glancing from her Pearl Gauntlet. Loz shouted, and Tifa caught hold of Yazoo's arm and twisted, catching his feet with hers. She wasn't trying to throw him - she hadn't the balance for that in this position - but trying to bring him down with her.

In a disorienting moment, Tifa and Yazoo whirled over the edge of the crater, tumbling down in a small avalanche of dirt and stones and mud. When the motion stopped, Tifa realized that she'd lost her grip on Yazoo, and she struggled to re-orient herself. He was unsteadily getting to his feet nearby, his hands empty, and he raised a hand to push muddy hair from his face to look for his gunblade.

"Yazoo!" Loz was scrambling down into the crater after them, eyes wide with shock, and Tifa realized that he couldn't even acknowledge what was happening. The fact that the Queen had sent his brothers to kill him was beyond him.

Barret fired as Marlene shouted something, and Kadaj's laughter rang out again. Tifa pulled herself upright, seeing Cid and Shera starting to help Denzel and Mal climb back up out of the crater. Denzel was whimpering and holding his arm.

What was happening finally seemed to be sinking in on Loz by the time he reached the bottom of the crater. There was growing hurt and fear in his voice. "Yazoo, stop!"

Yazoo whirled on him, distracted from looking for his weapon. "You never stopped! How could you even think for one moment -"

"Mal!"

Yazoo was moving, stumbling closer to Tifa and Loz behind her. "- That Mother would forgive you obsessing over your bitch enough to _betray Her?_"

Loz was reaching out. "Brother -"

"Brother!" Kadaj cackled madly, leaping toward Barret with a slash that was barely blocked. "He still calls you brother!"

Loz jerked his head toward Kadaj, his expression stricken.

"Mal, no!"

Tifa stood and turned in time to see Shera and Cid reaching back down into the crater. Mal was rushing toward her, stumbling, intently focused on something on the ground. She followed his gaze, her eyes widening as she saw his goal - but she barely had a moment to cry out and reach for the boy.

Yazoo caught hold of her hair and yanked backward; Tifa yelped and stumbled back into him. But she didn't struggle, trying to see Mal, and Yazoo realized and followed her gaze.

And began to laugh. "What are you going to do with that!"

It took the child both hands to even pick up Yazoo's gunblade, and he couldn't lift it to aim, but he looked like he was trying. Cid and Shera were sliding back down the crater wall behind him.

Both Kadaj and Yazoo were laughing now, and Yazoo held Tifa's hair with only one hand, green flame curling around his arm as he prepared to cast at Mal.

For once, Tifa's long hair was an advantage - it gave her enough length to still duck and twist and punch Yazoo in the stomach.

He choked and fell back, gloved, muddy fingers pulling from her hair as she dodged away. She raised her head to look at Mal again to see his parents rushing toward him.

He didn't appear to be afraid. He seemed resolute, looking right back at her with eyes much older than his age should have allowed. For just a moment, before Cid and Shera reached him, Tifa was sure that there was someone else kneeling by the child, a hand on his shoulder.

"Cloud?"

She made to stumble forward, but a hand closed around her ankle, yanking her down again; she didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until she struck her chin on the ground and snapped her mouth shut.

Yazoo snarled like a wild thing, nothing but pain and anger in his expression as he rose over her.

"No!" Loz barreled into Yazoo, both of them tumbling to the side. "Yazoo, stop, you have to listen -"

"Listen to what, you whining?" Kadaj interrupted, approaching a few steps before Barret fired at him again, this time with an energy blast. He'd either run out of bullets or his gun-arm had been damaged.

"There's nothing to hear, you idiot!" Yazoo snapped, punching at Loz.

Loz wasn't hitting back. He was desperate, only pinning Yazoo, trying to get his attention. "You never listen, don't you remember, she was in the reactor -"

"What the hell are you babbling about!"

Tifa's eyes widened in shock. The reactor - the Nibelheim reactor?

Yazoo shoved the flat of his hand against Loz's chest, the energy of a spell building up in tendrils of green again. Loz's mouth dropped open and he threw himself back. "Yazoo, don't!"

The spell exploded from Yazoo's hand, and would have been a direct hit despite Loz's attempted retreat... had it not been for the Reflect spell that Tifa had cast.

It was not a weak spell. In his anger, Yazoo had cast a high-level Ultima.

There was no time. Loz shouted and fell as the spell deflected back along its course, shattering his magical defense in the process. Cid and Shera covered Mal as Barret did the same for Marlene and Denzel, who had slid back down into the crater as well. Kadaj screamed something, but Tifa couldn't hear the words.

Sound and light exploded from the source of the spell in a ground-shaking roar. Tifa barely had time to shield her face.

It must have only lasted seconds, and dealt little of the damage that a true explosion at that range would have to those shielded. It still took Tifa several minutes to rise afterward, and her ears were ringing badly enough that she couldn't hear.

Cid, Shera, and their son were getting up, the gunblade still dragging from Mal's hands. They looked all right. Barret, Marlene, and Denzel seemed to have made it as well, the now-muddy Cait Sith puppet dangling from Marlene's hand. She couldn't locate Kadaj. As the ringing faded to a dull white roar in her ears, Tifa turned, seeking Loz.

It was hard to see him for the mud that now coated his clothing. He was crouched over something on the ground. It took Tifa another moment to realize that it was Yazoo.

It struck her with sickening clarity that he'd taken the full force of his own spell, and that the Prince hadn't even intended to escape its effects when he'd cast it. He couldn't have, at that range, with no magical protection of his own. He'd intended to die with his brother.

Tifa's hearing finally cleared enough that she could begin to decipher sounds again. The first thing she heard was Loz. She couldn't make out the words, but he seemed to be babbling, voice low and whimpering. He pawed at what was left of his brother, his hands shaking.

He had no Materia at all, much less a Restore Materia. Tifa bit back the urge rush forward and try to help with the Restore Materia she'd taken from him, but there was nothing short of a Revive spell that would work. She'd never successfully cast that, and Loz didn't know how either, from what he'd said about how he'd resuscitated her in the forest.

So it didn't matter, did it. They were finally rid of one of the Princes. She was supposed to be happy about that, wasn't she?

She moved a little closer in spite of herself, and saw with shock that Yazoo was not dead. He should have been dead - he was torn and mangled and crushed. But his eyes focused for a moment, his gaze sliding from white sky to his elder brother, his lips forming near-silent words that were drowned in the blood that spilled from his mouth.

And then he stilled, eyes going unfocused again, and the blood ceased to flow. Loz choked and howled - but his cry was lost in the scream that echoed from the side of the crater.

Kadaj.

Tifa couldn't move. She stared at Loz, at the way he collapsed and sobbed into the broken body before him, and all she could see was Cloud's corpse under her hands.

The youngest Prince struggled free of the earth that had partly buried him, staggering to his feet and screaming again before finding words. "You, you did this! TRAITOR!"

Curls of flame burst from his body, first white-hot, then violet - then red. Kadaj was Summoning.

The others were fleeing, nearly to the top of the crater now; Kadaj was weakened, but anything he called with that much power would still be too dangerous to fight the way things were now. Tifa knew that, logically, she should be running too.

She couldn't. Loz didn't even seem to have noticed Kadaj at all - he was still huddled and crying.

Kadaj thrust his hands skyward with another shriek, fire pouring from him and into the clouds above in a flare of wrath.

Tifa didn't want to know what he was Summoning. She wanted to get out of there, but she could only make herself move in one direction.

She'd been going to stay, back then, when Cloud had died. When she'd killed him. She'd wanted to die there in the Northern Crater, holding Cloud's lifeless body while the rage of the Planet was born around her, the Weapons clawing their way from earth and ice. And she would have succeeded, if Vincent hadn't pulled her away.

Barret shouted from the lip of the crater. "Tifa!"

Instinct gave speed to her movements. She grabbed the collar of Loz's jacket, hauling him out of his crouch. "Come on!"

He tumbled to his side, nearly knocking her down and making no move to rise. She bent with his weight, but strained rather than letting go, her fingers digging into his jacket all the more. "Loz! Goddammit, MOVE!"

The clouds above swirled and darkened, the wind of an otherworldly storm picking up as the center of the vortex expanded and blackened. Something vaguely humanoid and skeletal began to pull through, energy whirling around it to form a tattered shroud. At a gesture from the entity, the ground began to shake, pillars beginning to rise.

She knew that she began by dragging Loz, but at some point, he began to move on his own - she still pulled him, but he climbed the slope to the top of the crater on his own. On level ground again, she hauled him to his feet, nearly buckling under his weight.

She accidentally looked back into the crater as she turned under Loz's arm. The Hades that Kadaj had Summoned was half as tall as the crater it stood in, and it turned empty eye sockets on them, targeting. On the ground far below, Kadaj had stumbled to where Yazoo lay - but Yazoo was disappearing, his body dissipating into specks of light.

Tifa didn't have time to try to understand what she was seeing. She tried to run, stumbling and pulling Loz, trying to make for the Highwind. She could only hope that it was still there. Logically, the airship should have left as soon as the others were aboard. Logically, they should leave as soon as they saw her coming and bringing Loz with her.

The Highwind was still there, gondola hovering but ramp still on the ground, Baret and Vincent at the entrance. Sometimes, she could admit to herself that she was glad of her friends' lapses in logic.

She could hear the roar of the Summon behind them as their footing shifted from soft earth to the hard metal. Vincent and Barret barely waited for them to be inside before beginning to draw up the ramp; Cid must have been watching through a video feed, because the airship lurched upward at an angle the moment their feet left the soil.

Heart pounding and breath loud and ragged, Tifa fell painfully to her knees. Without her support, Loz collapsed, curling with his head in his hands.

"That's my girl," Barret mumbled, but she couldn't make sense of the comment. For the moment, all Tifa could think was that she didn't have to run any more.

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**Disclaimer: **The Final Fantasy VII compilation (in particular, Advent Children), its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


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